McQueens Ark
by Geek1
Summary: 8th in the Dill and Ty series. McQueen gets leave.Dill wonders why she bothers.
1. Chapter 1

McQueen's Ark.

Disclaimer:  
The characters and situations of the TV program "SPACE: Above and Beyond" are the creations of Glen Morgan and James Wong, Fox Broadcasting and Hard Eight Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. Dylan Mackenzie belongs to me.

Chapter 1.

Colonel T.C. McQueen, Commanding Officer of the Wildcards, sat at the bar in the Tun Tavern nursing a beer. All around him was the excited chatter of new arrivals checking the place out. Four new squads had arrived that day - the 122nd, 75th, 101st and the new 205th - and scuttlebutt had it that the 'Toga was heading into something dark and dirty.

McQueen glanced in the mirror in front of him. He could see the 58th playing poker. Hawkes, as usual, was grinning, letting the others know that he had a good hand. McQueen shook his head with a wry smile. However much they'd tried, none of them had been able to teach Hawkes a poker face, and he wondered why they would all throw their cards in whenever he got a winning hand.

They'd tried to get McQueen to join them. Damphousse sensed that he needed the company, but he'd refused. She was right. He did need company, which was why he'd come to the Tun, but he really wasn't in the mood for poker. A parcel had arrived in the last mail call, with pictures of his twin son's third birthday party. McQueen drank his beer down and ordered another. It had been his third wedding anniversary too, and he'd received nothing from his wife Dill.

The barman watched him carefully, trying to decide if Colonel McQueen was intending to get himself drunk tonight. The Colonel was already on his fourth beer and he normally stuck to two. The barman smiled to himself. Everything he thought he knew about invitros had been turned on its head since he'd come to the Saratoga, home to the two most famous invitros in the Corps. It was still true that they were grown in growth tanks and decanted at eighteen, but the idea of them having a lazy, idle, not-giving-a-damn-about-anyone-else-attitude had gone right out of the window. Mostly due to the man sitting in front of him. He glanced over at the ship's other invitro, Capt. Cooper Hawkes, sitting with the rest of his squad playing poker. It was plain to see that Hawkes tried to model himself on the colonel, with varying degrees of success. But between the two of them, the barman thought, they had done more for changing the attitudes towards invitros than any politician.

McQueen gulped at his beer, wondering if a whiskey would help. He'd sat and gone through the pictures, seeing his sons happy and smiling... seeing that Isobel was now walking. And in a dress finally, though Dill had added a note saying that the dress was only for the party. He'd seen the pictures of Dill, looking so neat and trim in her short summer dress, and his heart had skipped in his chest. She so rarely wore dresses, and he'd missed it. He'd felt so miserable that he'd forced himself to compound his misery by getting out the photo album she'd sent him of the children at Christmas.

Again it had been full of happy smiling faces; of the children sitting in front of an enormous tree, surrounded by wrapping paper. And finally a family shot obviously taken professionally. The boys, Cameron and Hamish, blonde haired and blue eyed like him, dressed in kilts and black jackets. Isobel almost a year old by Christmas, dressed in a black velvet dress with a tartan sash. And Dylan, his wife - though he always called her Dill - her short brown curly hair and blue eyes so obviously the original from which Isobel was copied, wore a full length tartan skirt with a white blouse and, again, a long matching sash. The picture was one he'd removed and had framed. It now sat on his desk along with several others, informal pictures of the children playing, and a picture of him and Dill together. He smiled, thinking of one such picture - three sun browned urchins sitting naked in a sandbox, all of them busily engrossed in their own obviously important tasks. He'd taken it himself during the last summer, when he'd had his leg damaged and had spent the next four months getting fit again with a brand new leg.

McQueen smiled to himself. This time it was no Aerotech crap, and he'd really noticed a difference. Of course Mr. Ashbourne, the surgeon who designed the leg, was currently involved in a long, drawn out wrangle over who owned the remains of the last leg, and whether he'd needed permission to remove it. But Ashbourne's lawyers were dealing with it, for which McQueen was grateful. He'd had Aerotech up to here, he thought, downing the last of his beer.

This time McQueen ordered a whiskey. He missed his family and he felt miserable. He deserved a whiskey, he was sure. Six months without them was far too long, he decided, and who knew how long it would be before he saw them again. He downed his whiskey in one gulp and ordered another. If the 'Toga was about to go head first into a fur ball, who knew when they'd next get leave. If they survived.

Drinking his second whiskey McQueen thought about his friend and commanding officer, Glen Ross. Ross hadn't mentioned anything to him. Maybe it was compartmentalised, McQueen told himself, but it was unlike Glen to not even hint that something was up, or to give him a clue and let him work it out for himself. He twitched his finger and a third whiskey appeared in front of him. Then he groaned as one of the newbie's strolled over to the jukebox, staring intently at it before making his decision.

The barman, hearing his groan, smiled. "Don't worry, Colonel - the whole selection has been changed. No more of those old crooners you hated so much. Though I doubt you'll find this selection much better."

"Better bring me another whiskey then," McQueen told him.

"Colonel, you've had four beers and three whiskeys. Is that wise?"

McQueen glared at him. "Are you telling me no?"

"No, Colonel. I'm telling you this is your last drink in the Tun tonight. You'll thank me in the morning." The barman smiled pleasantly at him, despite the growl he got in response.

The air filled with the refrain of a country song that Dill had taken to singing during his last leave. McQueen couldn't remember who it was, but he found himself humming along to it, to the amusement of the barman.

"Found one you like, have we?" the barman asked with a bemused grin.

"Not really. My wife sang this a lot on my last leave. It's catchy." McQueen gulped his whiskey and stood up - if he couldn't get another drink here he had whiskey in his quarters - and found that his legs were not at all happy about it. Steadying himself with a hand to the bar, McQueen strode towards the door, not noticing when the 58th lost a poker player as Hawkes threw his hand in at Vansen's nod and followed him.

They'd seen how much he'd drunk and were determined to ensure he reached his quarters without mishap. Their promotions the previous summer had upset a lot of people. McQueen had fought hard to keep them together, arguing that as a unit they were far more efficient than splitting them they would ever be. He'd argued that by giving them their own commands, yes, they would be able to impart their knowledge to those in their separate squads, but they wouldn't have the instinctive support they had now that made them so damn good. By calling in favours and promising others he'd been able to win them a reprieve. No matter what promotions they may well receive, they'd be staying together until the war was over. The paperwork was signed, sealed, and delivered.

However the effort he'd expended had not gone unnoticed. There was talk that the 58th were providing him with 'services', and that was why he'd fought so hard to keep them with him. Talk about the morals of tanks was again rearing its ugly head, even after six months, and several times Hawkes had been physically restrained, preventing him from attacking someone after a comment had been made about McQueen.

The 58th had taken to surreptitiously following him, determined to prevent any physical attacks on McQueen. Vansen was sure she'd arrived just in time to prevent one, after following him to the gym one afternoon. He'd gone to take a shower after his workout and several other gym users had followed him in. She'd given it five minutes and gone in, calling out to him casually, asking if he had any shampoo she could borrow. She'd found McQueen stood, back against the shower wall, legs braced as if ready for a fight, still half undressed, his face stonily blank, as the other occupants of the showers rapidly exited. She knew the look, having seen him furious on more occasions than she liked to admit. He'd denied anything was wrong and had stormed off. Vansen followed again, making sure he reached his quarters safely.

The next day, after their mission briefing, McQueen'd held them back and given them the full force of his fury at the discovery that they'd been tailing him. He'd refused to let them speak until he'd vented his spleen, and only then did he accept the fact that they worried about him. Even then they were sure it was only because it had been 'Phousse who said it - had told him that they loved him dearly and wouldn't let anything happen to him no matter what he said. He'd stood there dumbfounded, and had finally turned on his heel and marched away, his face crimson. Hawkes had been hurt - hurt and angry that McQueen hadn't understood why they'd been looking out for him. It wasn't until West pointed out that McQueen hadn't been red faced with anger, but with embarrassment, that Coop had calmed down, a smile spreading across his face. "You think he loves us too?" he'd asked. McQueen had appeared in the doorway of their quarters after they'd returned from their patrol and apologised to them, but had warned them not to continue tailing him.

Of course they'd ignored him, and he knew it. So now they played a careful game of 'we know you know, but we're pretending that you don't' and tried not to crowd him. The only time it had been mentioned since was when Hawkes, during a poker game, had casually asked why McQueen disappeared to the commodores' cabin twice a week when the commodore was on the bridge. McQueen had gone very quiet, before releasing a huge sigh and had admitted that he was 'seeing someone for some personal stuff' and the commodore had a secure net link he used, before glaring at them, throwing in his hand and leaving. Hawkes had been all "What did I say?" and the girls had decided that what McQueen meant was that finally he was getting therapy. To which West had snorted, "And about time too!"

On this occasion, however, McQueen reached his quarters safely. A little wobbly, but safely. Once he'd seen him go in, Hawkes had headed back to the Tun, stopping to salute the commodore who passed him in the hallway.

Commodore Glen Ross was on his way to see McQueen. He had news for him that he wanted to personally deliver, and he wanted to see the look on his friends face. As much as he was delighted to see his friend settled and finally happy, content in his life at last, what Ross hated was that he (and as far as he knew it was only he who could see it) could see how much the conflict between McQueen's desire to be with his family and his dedication to the corps was tearing the man apart.

Ross'd been totally astounded when McQueen had come to him when he'd arrived back on the Saratoga six months ago, telling Ross that he was finally having therapy for his nightmares, and asking if he could use the secure net link in the commodore's private quarters to continue the sessions. Ross could still see McQueen standing there at parade rest, his head down, eyes staring at the floor, as he made his request. McQueen seemed afraid of having finally admitted weakness. It had taken some doing to get permission from the high ups. But with McQueen's mother-in-law using her contacts planet side, permission had been granted, though Ross suspected it had more to do with Moira's efforts than his. He smiled though at the memory of McQueen turning up for the first session and panicking at the thought that Ross was going to stay. Ross had simply been late in getting himself out of the shower and getting dressed, but he'd made sure it hadn't happened since, and was pleased with the way the sessions seemed to be helping McQueen cope.

Rapping sharply at the door, Ross was surprised that there was no response. He'd just seen Hawkes leaving, which usually meant McQueen was tucked up safe and sound for the night. Ross chuckled to himself. Who the hell the 58th thought they were kidding when they claimed that they most certainly were not following McQueen around, he just didn't know. But he was grateful that they were doing what he'd like to be able to do - look out for his friend. He rapped again louder, and smiled as he heard the mumbled response.

"Who's at my hatch?"

"Your boss," Ross growled.

"It's open."

Ross let himself in, to find McQueen sprawled on the bed, one boot off and one boot on, surrounded by photo albums of his family. He raised his eyebrows at the whiskey bottle on the desk, and the glass clutched in McQueen's hand.

"Drowning your sorrows,Ty?"

"Kinda." The blue eyes stared at the tall black man, standing in front of him with a raised eyebrow.

"You really think getting drunk will help?" Ross asked him, taking the half full glass from him.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," McQueen said mournfully. "I miss my kids, Glen. I really, really miss them. Dill sent me pictures of the little guys' birthday party. They were three years old last month, and I've seen them three times in those three years." He looked up at Glen, tears in his eyes. "The damned ghillie sees more of them than I do."

"The what?" Ross asked, downing the whiskey himself. He smiled at the taste of it. It was the good stuff that Dill sent to both of them regularly.

"The ghillie," Ty told him. "People pay to fish on the loch, and the ghillie looks after them. He takes them out for the day. He's a gamekeeper, I guess. He takes the boys out on the loch. Dill says he loves them, but _I _love them, Glen. They're _my_ boys."

"You're jealous!" Ross snorted.

"No, I damn well am not!" McQueen snapped.

"Yes, you are," Ross chuckled. "And I don't blame you. If some chap was hanging around my wife and children, I'd be jealous too."

"Rhonda wouldn't cheat on you, Glen," Ty told him.

"And Dylan wouldn't cheat on you any more than you would her." Ross smiled. At McQueen's frown, he laughed. "I heard about that Major from the 67th - the one who propositioned you in the Tun a week ago."

McQueen blushed. "Yeah, well, I sent her away with a flea in her ear," he mumbled.

"What did she say to you? I heard that you yelled right in her face and told her to get the hell away from you." Ross sat forward, eager to hear.

McQueen grinned at him and quirked an eyebrow. "You really wanna know?"

"My best friend pitches a fit in front of a Friday night crowd at the Tun? You bet I want to know!"

"She started off like they all do. You know, the 'I'd never have guessed you were a tank' crap. At which point I showed her my wedding ring and told her I wasn't interested. Then she asked how long I'd been married, progressing to 'A man must get awful lonely up here, away from his family, and need some relief'." McQueen smiled wryly at Ross. "And how many times have you heard that one? So I told her I really wasn't interested, and asked her to leave me alone. At which point she said that obviously the rumours were true - the 58th were my fuck buddies, and that's why I'd fought so hard to keep them. By then I was already a little pissed. But then she said, 'What do you do? Take them one at a time, or do you have orgies?' And she said 'I'll bet you like that. Everyone says tanks enjoy group sex'," he grimaced. "You'll forgive me if I lost my temper at that point, but I'd heard just about enough. I knew there were rumours but…."

Ross burst out laughing. "Oh, what I would have given to have been there!"

"Why, Glen? Why do people always assume that just because I'm a tank, I'll fuck anything that moves? I hate it! People just can't believe that I found someone who doesn't care that I'm an invitro... who loves me for me. Or else they assume that I don't actually love her. After all, those years in a growth tank didn't exactly equip me with a full set of emotional responses, and I'm bound to still be deficient 20 years later!"

"Ty," Ross said softly, "they listen to speculation and rumour. Anyone who's different... and let's face it, invitros are different Ty. Grown in a tank until the age of eighteen, and then decanted…."

"Like a fine wine," McQueen giggled softly.

"It's just plain bigotry. My ancestors, little more than a hundred years ago, went through the same thing. People assumed we weren't human. We didn't have rights. Hell, earlier than that we were slaves, used and abused just like you were. The same things were said about us that they nowadays say about invitros. Especially when it comes to sex," Ross told him, smiling. McQueen was drunker than he realised, if he was giggling.

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. I remember my grandpa telling me that he had a lot of white girlfriends when he was a young man. They all wanted to know if it was true that black men were better equipped than their white counterparts." Ross grinned at McQueen. "Sound familiar?"

McQueen nodded. "Dill's never once said anything about that."

"Well, she wouldn't, would she? She had no comparison." Ross could hardly believe his ears. Here was Ty McQueen, talking about such a personal issue with him. Damn, but that therapy must be working, he thought.

"She did," McQueen grinned. "I wasn't her first. She has been known to call me big boy though."

"Hell, Rhonda calls me that!" Ross chuckled, realising that in all the years he'd known McQueen, they'd never had a conversation like this. He felt honoured that McQueen finally felt comfortable enough to talk to him, and hoped it wasn't just the drink.

"You know, once, years ago, I got so paranoid about it, I looked it up on the net," McQueen snickered.

"Looked what up?"

"You know... the average size. And then I measured myself!" he chuckled.

"You measured yourself?" Ross guffawed loudly. "I sure hope you weren't disappointed!"

"Nope," McQueen winked, "I found out it was true."

Ross's jaw dropped. "Really?"

"Oh yes," McQueen grinned.

"So?"

"So what?" McQueen asked innocently.

"You can't say something like that and not substantiate it!" Ross chuckled.

"What, you want me to get it out and show you?" McQueen was giggling again, his hand reaching for the zipper on his flight suit.

"Don't you dare!" Ross laughed. "Tell me what you found out."

"The average size is six inches. I'm bigger than that," McQueen smirked.

"Six inches. Is that normally or erect?" Ross was wondering about himself now.

"Erect. And about five inches round is normal. I'm a bit bigger there, too." McQueen was grinning like the cat that got the cream.

"So how much bigger?" Ross asked. "Should I be jealous?"

"Two inches, and an inch round," McQueen said proudly.

"You got a tape measure in here?" Ross asked with a grin.

"No," McQueen laughed.

"A slide rule?"

"Yeah, but I'm not lending it to you!" McQueen chuckled. "I don't want you jerking off in my bathroom!"

"Damn you, McQueen!" Ross laughed. "How in the hell did we get around to comparing sizes?"

"You started it," McQueen told him gleefully.

"You could have lied!" Ross chuckled.

"What kind of man lies to his best friend?" McQueen reasoned.

"A man who's not showing off, that's who!" Ross grinned. "Hell, I came here for a reason, and I'm damned if I can remember why now!"

"Better pour us some of that whiskey then," McQueen grinned. "All this talking's made me thirsty."

"I think that you've had enough already," Ross told him. "I can smell you from here!"

"Don't be like that. And after I told you all about my net research, too!" McQueen whined. "Go on, pour me another. You know you want to."

"Now you're whining, I know you've had enough," Ross told him. "And I remember what it was I came to tell you. We're heading back to Earth."

McQueen sat bolt upright.

"I knew that'd get your attention," Ross chortled. "They want to use the Saratoga as a rendezvous for the Secretary General again."

"What for this time?" McQueen asked.

"I'm not supposed to say, but as you won't be here, I'm going to tell you."

"I won't?" Now McQueen was eager to hear.

"Nope, you won't. Hayden is meeting with the Chiefs-of-Staff and the Head Honcho from Aerotech. Pre-peace talk discussions."

"Peace talks? We've heard nothing about that," McQueen said pensively.

"Well, it seems that Operation Firefly worked. You remember that one, do you? You guys got your medals and long overdue promotions because of it. After the intensive bombing a message was received from the Chig home world. It has taken them nearly a year to decide whether or not it was genuine," Ross sighed.

"During which year more men and women have died." McQueen growled.

"Yes," Ross shook his head sadly. "But anyway, you won't be here because Aerotech specifically requested you not be. Nor any members of the 58th, or indeed myself."

"The 58th I can understand. After all, they might tell me something. But you?"

"They know about our friendship. But I'm not complaining. I get to go home and see Rhonda. Two whole weeks, Ty. I get two whole weeks. You get a little longer. I said if they wanted you gone, they had to take into account the extra travelling you had, to get home to Scotland." Ross laughed. "Why don't they want you there? Who did you upset?"

"I imagine it's because of this dispute that's still raging over my leg. Aerotech were pissed off that I got an Ashbourne leg instead of one of theirs," McQueen told him. "It's one hell of a leg though. I thought the other one was good, but this one is better. Sometimes I forget it's not a real leg."

"Did you do any net searching on your leg?" Ross asked.

"No, why? Should I have?"

"I did, and I can tell you why you got Aerotech, and not Ashbourne, the first time around." At McQueen's raised eyebrows he carried on. "The Aerotech legs costs less than a quarter of the Ashbourne one. Ty, you are walking around with over a million dollar's worth of leg!"

McQueen paled. "Christ, Glen, I owe Moira and Ashbourne big time," he whispered.

"From what you told me, Ty, Ashbourne wanted to do it. And after the crap you've taken from Moira over the years, well…" Ross smiled. "I'm sure you can say thank you when you get home in a week."

"A week? That soon?" he gasped. "Glen, can I send a priority message to Dill to let her know I'm coming home?"

"Of course you can, you fool!" Ross grinned. "Why the hell do you think I came to tell you? Now what's that you have there? Pictures of your kids? Come on, let me see the tykes! The last time I saw any of them was when Isobel was born. That's what, nearly 18 months ago?" He reached for the photo album, his face splitting into a wide grin. "Damn, those boys look more like you all the time. You must have been quite something, floating there in that tank of yours." Ross looked over at McQueen when he heard soft snores. McQueen was sound asleep, propped against the wall.

With a smile, Ross pulled him down the bunk and removed his other boot, surprised that McQueen offered no resistance. He peeled him out of his flight suit and covered him with a blanket, before turning out the light and leaving him to sleep.

McQueen strode onto the bridge next morning with a scowl. His head ached, and he was sure someone had carpeted his mouth during the night. He was just glad that he hadn't drunk enough to make him throw up.

Seeing the way the bridge crew hurriedly turned to their tasks, Commodore Ross looked round. Seeing McQueen's scowl, he grinned, whispering "Morning, big boy" as McQueen came to stand by his side.

McQueen simply stared at him. "Good morning sir," he said quietly.

Ross gazed at him speculatively. "You don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?" McQueen asked, frowning. He remembered Ross had been in his quarters. There was talk about peace talks, he thought, but he didn't remember much else.

"Do you remember we talked about leave?" Ross kept his voice low.

"Did we? What about it, sir?" McQueen looked totally confused.

"Just what do you remember about last night, Ty?"

McQueen thought for a moment, and then paled. "I woke up out of my flight suit," he whispered. "I'd had too much to drink. You were there…" He looked Ross straight in the eye. "I… I didn't do anything inappropriate, did I?"

"No, not unless you consider bragging about the size of your…." Ross grinned as McQueen's eyes widened.

"Oh, my god," he whispered. "I didn't...?"

"Most informative you were, too," Ross chuckled.

"I am so sorry Glen. I have no excuse. That was unforgivable," McQueen told him.

"Relax, Ty. I started it. We were discussing attitudes towards invitros, and the subject just sort of came up, pardon the pun. I take it you forgot about your upcoming leave too?" Ross asked him.

"I have leave?"

"We all do. You, me, and the 58th. Aerotech wants us all out of the way for these talks." While he'd been speaking Ross had taken McQueen's arm and pulled him off the bridge and into his office. "Let Dylan know you're on your way. Get her to warm the sheets. Big Boy's coming home!" At McQueen's blush, Ross laughed, and left him to contact Dill.

Ten mikes later McQueen returned to the bridge, coming to stand next to Ross at the Lidar station. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?" he whispered.

"Not for a very long time," Ross smiled, clapping him on the back. "So tell me, was Dylan pleased?"

"She wasn't home. I had to leave a message," McQueen sighed.

"Never mind, try again later," Ross told him, reaching for a data pad that a young lieutenant was handing him. "Looking forward to seeing those kids again, I'll bet?"

"Yes, sir," McQueen smiled.

Ross chortled. One sure fire way to make the man smile was to mention his children. "So any plans for your leave? Going to whisk Dylan away somewhere exotic? I'm planning on taking Rhonda to Tahiti myself. Lie on the beach, drink lots of alcohol, and get to know my wife again."

"No sir. Once Dill knows I'm coming, she'll be contacting some friends we made on that damn cruise. You know, the Titanic," McQueen scowled.

"It was hardly that, Ty. After all, it didn't sink, did it?" Ross murmured, his eyes on the Lidar.

"It may as well have done. It was torture from day one." McQueen peered over his shoulder. "What the hell is that?"

"Oh crap, it's another of those damn super hive ships, isn't it?" Ross groaned. Turning, he yelled, "I want squads in the air now, people! Take that bogie out of my sky!"

All around him people ran to and fro. McQueen slipped on a head set, co-ordinating the launching of the selected squadrons, proud that the 58th were once again in the air, but fearful that they might not return. The enemy's super hive ships had caused them problems before. He prayed that this time, having had more experience with them, it would be over with quickly, and he would be down in the landing bay watching as his kids returned. Already he could feel the laser cannons firing and hear the yells for torpedoes to be launched. Closing out all other sounds, he concentrated on the job in hand - getting his people in the air and co-ordinating their attack.

Six hours later he had just flung himself onto his bunk for a quick catnap, removing only his boots, when there was a loud rapping at his hatch. Heaving a great sigh, McQueen got up and answered the door. It was Ross, beaming like a fool. "Come on quickly!" he cried, grabbing McQueen's arm and leading him down the corridor.

"Glen! My boots!" McQueen squawked as his friend almost dragged him along.

"Forget your boots. Just damn well hurry!" Ross chuckled.

"What the hell is going on!" McQueen demanded as Ross flung him through the door to his quarters.

"Language!" Ross grinned, pointing. "There are little ones listening."

McQueen turned and looked at the view screen Ross had pointed at. There on a live link were Cameron and Hamish, smiling at him. "My god" he whispered, his eyes filling with tears.

"Hello, daddy!" called Hamish, his face splitting into a huge grin as he saw McQueen.

Cameron sat and sucked his thumb, Cashus, his black flight suited doll, clutched tightly to him.

"Hello, my boys," McQueen whispered, taking a seat where they could see him clearly. "Are you being good boys for mommy? Did you get your presents? Did mommy get hers?" He had a barrage of questions he wanted to ask them. And to ask Dill.

He heard Dill off camera telling Cameron to say hello to daddy. Ty smiled - just the sound of her voice made his heart miss a beat.

"The presents comed, daddy. Fank you," Hamish grinned. "A real boat! Will we go on the loch in it, daddy, when you come home? Cameron likes his new bike. He says I can share it. He can share my boat too!"

"Good boys," McQueen told him, "sharing nicely. Did mommy get her present?" he asked again.

Hamish looked to his right and nodded. "Mummy says yes, it's bootiful," He looked again and McQueen could hear Dill saying something. "Mummy says did you like your present? Was it your birfday daddy?"

"No, Hamish, it wasn't my birthday. It was a special present just from mommy, but it didn't get here yet." McQueen's smile dropped. "That makes me sad."

Cameron took his thumb out of his mouth, preparing to speak, when Hamish spoke up again. "Cashus said you were sad. Do you need a kiss, daddy?"

Ross, standing to the side, smiled as Hamish disappeared from view and re-emerged in Dill's arms, being held up to kiss the camera.

"Happy now, daddy?" Hamish asked, climbing back onto his seat next to Cameron.

"Play with your penis, daddy," Cameron said calmly.

"What?" McQueen asked, startled, throwing a black look at Ross, who'd laughed out loud.

"Playing with my penis makes me happy," Cameron smiled. "When you come home mummy can…." Cameron was whisked away from the camera and Dill appeared.

"Sorry about that. It's his current fixation. Be prepared to answer lots of questions when you get home. I miss you," she smiled, turning to help Hamish down.

"Bye daddy!" came his voice as he ran after Cameron.

"Bye Hamish" Ty whispered. "Hello Dill."

"Hello, my lover. My present hasn't arrived yet?" At the shake of his head, she shook hers. "Damn! Never mind. I'll get you another." She looked to the right. "Damn! Our time is up! I love you, Ty. You come home soon, please."

"I love you too, Dill," he whispered as the connection cut out.

Ross stepped forward, grinning. "Out of the mouths of babes… big boy!"

McQueen shook his head, a small smile on his face. He stood up. "Thanks, Glen. Now if you'll excuse me, my feet are cold."

"Off to give the little one's idea a try?" Ross chuckled

Straightening his shoulders, McQueen strode off down the corridor, throwing back over his shoulder dryly, "That's for me to know!"

Ross stood and laughed until tears trickled down his face. The image of the expression on McQueen's face at Cameron's words would stay with him for a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

Once again – MANY THANKS to Karen, she's the Bestest beta ever, and Vasalysa – who keeps the cheese to a minimum, and offers endless advice and help. What would I do without the two of you?

McQueen's Ark 2

McQueen woke with the sun in his face. Rolling over, he looked at his wife as she lay asleep, her brown curls framing her face. Smiling, Ty reached to stroke Dill's hair as he thought about his journey. He'd thought that Hawkes would be accompanying him. But it had turned out that Vansen was right and he'd got hooked on surfing. So Coop and Iona, the love of his life and Dill's best friend, had headed out west to Hawaii for some 'humungous waves!' as Hawkes had put it. Ty'd found himself dropped off in Inverness in the early hours of the morning, and not wanting to disturb Dill with a phone call, he'd hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and set off to walk the 20 miles home.

The house had been in darkness when he arrived, which hadn't really surprised him, so he'd looked in on each of the children and kissed their foreheads before undressing and slipping in with Dill. He was pleased to find her naked under the covers, and his mind had perused the idea of waking her up, but he'd chosen to let her sleep. After all, they had two whole weeks together.

This morning, deciding that what he really needed other than Dill was some coffee, McQueen hopped out of bed and headed for the kitchen to put the kettle on. After rummaging for the coffee and a pot, he made a quick trip to the bathroom, coming back to find Cameron sitting at the kitchen table eating a biscuit.

"Daddy!" Cameron yelled, launching himself at his father.

"Hey, boy," McQueen grinned, picking him up for a cuddle.

"Daddy, where are your bajamas? You never wear your bajamas!" Cameron said, kissing him on the cheek.

"I know. Sorry, Cameron," McQueen smiled, kissing him back. "Come on, let's go get me some pants." He carried the little boy back into his and Dill's bedroom, putting him on the bed while he found and pulled on his sweatpants.

"Hey guys," Dill yawned. "Is the coffee on? What time did you get in, Ty? I waited up until after two am, but I couldn't keep my eyes open. I thought you were going to call so I could come pick you up."

"It was three o'clock when I got to Inverness. I walked," he told her, coming to the bed. "I'm a big strong marine, remember?" Ty kissed her long and hard. "God, I've missed you so much."

Her hand reached out to stroke his jaw. "I've missed you too, husband of mine. I'm so happy to have you home."

"Mummy, mummy! Can we take daddy to the farm? Can we? Can we?" Cameron was jumping on the bed.

"Yes, of course we can, but not today. I think after he's had some breakfast and kissed you monkeys, daddy needs to go back to sleep. It's taken him a long time to get home to us and he's very tired," Dill told the excited little boy.

"I'm gonna tell Hamish!" Cameron cried, leaping from the bed. "Look at me, daddy. I'm Action Man!"

"Action Man?" McQueen queried.

"They both got one for their birthday. It's a doll... a soldier. I think in the US they call them GI Joe, and no, I didn't buy them. They both adore the damn things - they even watch the Action Man cartoons," she sighed. "Of course now they tell everyone they're going to be soldiers like daddy."

"I'll bet that made you happy," Ty chuckled softly. "So I have to take a nap, do I? Wanna take one with me?" He leant forwards to kiss her again.

"Did I ever tell you that for a man you have the softest lips," Dill smiled, afterwards.

"No. Wanna feel 'em again, just to check?"

"Oh, yes."

Ty was still laying stretched out next to her, holding her in his arms and kissing her, when Cameron returned with Hamish and Isobel, who was toddling along behind.

"Daddy!" Hamish yelled, launching himself onto the bed and into his arms. "You comed home!"

"Yes, I did. Just for a little while. I needed to see my boys and my dumpling," he grinned, lifting Isobel onto the bed. "Hey, dumpling. How's the spooge?" Ty chuckled as all three children fought to sit on him.

"Daddy is not a chair!" Dill told them. "You'll all get hugs and kisses, but you must share him. Now I'm going to take Izzy away to change her nappy, but when I get back, it's Izzy's turn for hugs from daddy. Okay boys?"

"Yes, mummy!" both boys chorused, giggling.

"Good boys," she smiled, getting out of the bed and hunting for her robe.

Once she'd left with Isobel, Cameron turned to McQueen. "Mummy doesn't have a penis."

"Ummm... I guess not. Only guys have those." McQueen told him, suppressing a chuckle.

"Are we guys?" Hamish asked. "We has penisis."

"Yep, we're guys. So, who wants breakfast?" Ty asked, trying to change the subject. "Come on, let's go cook mommy some eggs."

He got off the bed, fully aware that Cameron was absorbing what he'd said. He knew it wouldn't be long before the next question came. He just hoped he could delay it until Dill arrived back with Isobel.

As they traipsed down the hallway to the kitchen, Cameron spoke, and McQueen braced himself, dreading whatever might be coming.

"Can I have a piglet, daddy?"

McQueen stopped and gaped at the boy. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but that wasn't it.

"A piglet?"

"When we go to the farm, can I have a piglet?" The look on Cameron's face told him that he should know exactly what Cameron was talking about.

"Let's talk about that later, shall we?" When mommy's here to deal with it, Ty thought. "Now then, who's for eggs?"

"Don't like eggs," Hamish told him. "Do McQueen's have to like eggs?"

"They come out of chickens bottoms!" Cameron announced as he sat at the table. "We don't eat chicken poos."

"O-kay," McQueen said cautiously. "So how about that porridge stuff mommy makes you? I think I can make that."

Hamish shook his head. "Baby sick."

"Baby sick?" McQueen sat down with the boys, wondering if he was dreaming this.

"Baby sick," Cameron nodded.

"Toast?" McQueen offered. They surely couldn't have anything against toast, could they?

"Pancakes!" Hamish yelled. "Make us pancakes, daddy. Cakes with stirrup!"

"I don't know how to make pancakes," he admitted.

"Oh, daddy!" Hamish sighed. "You look in the breadbin. That's where mummy keeps them."

"Oh, okay," Ty whispered, feeling like he'd been firmly put in his place.

Getting up, he looked for the breadbin. It wasn't where he remembered.

"Over there, daddy," Cameron pointed, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks, Cameron," Ty mumbled as he opened it. Sure enough there were several packs of ready made pancakes. "Here we go, boys," he told them, grinning. "Now how do I heat them?" McQueen flipped the packets, reading the instructions. "Oh, I nuke 'em. Right then, guys, how many do you want?"

"Eleven," Hamish said firmly.

"Nine," Cameron told him.

Ty stared at them both, unsure exactly what it was about them, but they were starting to freak him out. They were babies. Surely they shouldn't be quite so confident?

"You want eleven pancakes, Hamish?" he finally asked.

Hamish nodded.

"All with stirrup?"

Again the nod.

"And you want nine?" This he addressed Cameron.

"Uh huh. But I want jam, not stirrup."

"Right then," Ty said with a shrug. "You sure you'll eat them all?"

"Daddy!" both boys cried.

"Okay, okay. But you better eat them, or mommy will get real mad at me," he told them.

"What will mummy get mad at?" Dill asked, coming into the kitchen and popping Isobel into her highchair.

"If they don't eat their pancakes," McQueen told her.

"Oh, they'll eat them. They love pancakes," Dill told him, starting to reboil the kettle for coffee. She glanced over at him to see what he was doing, her eyebrows raised. "Ty, why are you putting that many in the microwave?"

"You just said the boys will eat them," he told her.

"Are those for us, too?"

"No, just the boys," Ty said, hesitantly. He could feel a lecture coming.

"They won't eat that many," Dill smiled. "Just three each. If they eat those, they can have another."

McQueen turned to the boys, who were holding their hands over their mouths, giggling. "You told me too many. Are you trying to get me in trouble with mommy?"

Both boys giggled harder.

"How many did they tell you?" Dill chuckled.

"Hamish wanted eleven, and Cameron said nine."

"And that didn't seem excessive to you?" She shook her head, laughing. "What am I going to do with you, Ty? Getting walked all over by a pair of three year olds."

"They started it," he complained. "They can't eat eggs because they're chicken poo, and porridge is baby sick."

Dill turned to the boys. "That was mean. You say sorry to daddy right now!"

"Sorry, daddy," both boys whispered.

"Don't you be silly like that again," she told them sternly. "It's not fair to daddy. You wouldn't do it to Izzy, so don't do it to daddy." Dill came up behind McQueen and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Sorry, sweetie. They're pushing their limits at the moment, and you're someone new to try it out on."

"It's okay, I guess. I've gotta get used to it," Ty said as her forehead rested against his back. He could feel the soft kisses she placed there. His body began to respond. "That nap, Dill - will you take it with me? Can we get someone to see after the kids?"

"Already sorted," she mumbled against his back. "Malcolm is taking the boys out in the row boat you bought Hamish, and Izzy is going to the crèche. Mother's coming over to collect her."

"Malcolm?" Ty turned so that now Dill was kissing his bare chest.

"The ghillie," she whispered, her lips moving softly over one of his nipples.

"Oh, him." Suddenly he didn't care who Malcolm was; just that he took the boys soon. Ty looked down into Dill's blue eyes, dark with desire.

"Where's my pancakes!" Hamish demanded.

McQueen looked up. "Coming," he groaned.

"If you want," Dill whispered, pressing herself against him.

"Stop it, Dill," Ty groaned. "Not in front of the kids, please." All he could think about was that Cameron would notice how aroused he was and make another penis comment.

Fortunately for him the microwave pinged, and he turned to take the pancakes out. As she bent to open a low cupboard looking for the syrup, Dill rubbed against his behind, smiling at the low moan he let out.

"When's he coming for the boys?" Ty asked.

Dill looked at the clock. "In about an hour. They're going to check out places for him to take you fishing."

"An hour?" he groaned. "I better go take a cold shower."

"Don't you dare," she giggled. "I want you all smelly and sweaty, like a real marine should be."

"You are disgusting, you do know that?" Ty chuckled, putting their plates down in front of the boys. "What's Izzy having?"

"Well, as you nuked so many pancakes, she can have those. Just a dribble of stirrup on hers though, please." Dill rubbed herself against him again as she passed on her way to the kettle. "God, you feel good. Been working out?" she snickered.

"Dill," he warned.

"Are you being bad, mummy?" Cameron asked her.

"Oh yes, she's being very bad," McQueen told him as he rummaged for the jam for Cameron. "Which do you want - raspberry jam or blackcurrant?"

"Raspberry please, daddy," Cameron smiled. "Will you tell her off? For being bad?"

"Oh yes, I sure will. But I'll do it later after I've had a nice hot shower." Ty pulled a face at Dill, who poked her tongue out at him. "I'm all stinky and smelly. I need to get clean."

Hamish wrinkled his nose, sniffing. "You smell nice to me," he said, his mouth full of pancake. "You smell like my daddy."

Cameron looked at Hamish, then stared at McQueen. "He is daddy."

"He smells like him," Hamish nodded. "Like daddy should."

Intrigued, Dill came over to sniff him. "Hammerhead fuel," she smiled. "Very faint though."

"You can smell that from over there?" McQueen asked disbelievingly.

"Sort of like when mummy puts petrol in the car, but different," Hamish nodded. "And like the petrol Malcolm puts in his boat." He bent his head to finish his pancakes. "Can I have more please, daddy?"

"Sure you can, little guy," McQueen grinned. "What else can you smell?" He got up to get Hamish more pancakes.

"Umm...," Hamish thought about it for a moment. "Izzy's done another poo, and Marcus has walked in dog poo," he said, tucking into the fresh pancakes.

"Who's Marcus?" McQueen asked, puzzled.

There came a rapping at the door. "It's only me!" a voice called. "No post from daddy today, boys. I better not come in. I've stepped in…"

"Dog poo...," McQueen echoed.

"Thanks, Marcus!" Dill called. "Just leave it on the mat. We don't need post from daddy today - we've got him home!"

"Ooh, lovely!" came the reply. "How do, Colonel McQueen?"

"How do?" Ty mouthed at Dill.

"How are you?" Dill translated.

"Oh. I'm fine, thank you," he called.

"Glad to hear it. See you tomorrow, no doubt."

"Bye!" Hamish yelled.

"Bye boys!"

McQueen sat and stared at Hamish. "Can you hear me and mummy talking in the other room, Hamish?"

"Only if you're loud. I don't listen, daddy!" Hamish was most affronted.

"You do!" Cameron told him. "You listened when mummy said she was having a baby!"

McQueen's head whipped around to Dill so fast he almost got whiplash.

"After you left last time I was really, really sick for a few days. I thought I might be pregnant again, but it was just a stomach bug. I was telling Iona about it a week or so ago."

"I hear mummy crying sometimes too," Hamish said, oblivious to his father's dismay at these revelations. "Then I go and get into bed with her for a cuddle. Sometimes mummy needs cuddles."

"Cashus says mummy misses you," Cameron piped up, determined not to let his brother get all the attention.

"Oh, I do. I miss daddy very much when he's not here," Dill smiled, helping Isobel with her pancakes.

"I miss mummy too," McQueen whispered. "I miss all of you."

"Do you cry daddy?" Cameron asked.

Not sure what to say, McQueen got up for more pancakes for Hamish, who'd finished his second helping and was asking for more.

"Cashus says you do," Cameron told him.

"And is Cashus always right?" McQueen smiled as he sat back down.

"Nearly always," Hamish nodded. "Cashus knows daddy. Don't you fib to him."

"Where is Cashus?" McQueen asked, looking around.

"He's in the washing machine, and he doesn't like it," Cameron sighed. "But if he's too dirty he can't feel things."

McQueen looked at Dill, who just shrugged her shoulders. Now he was getting freaked out. Hamish appeared to have amazingly acute senses of smell and hearing, while Cameron's doll - or Cameron, he wondered - knew things it ought not to. He looked at Izzy, afraid to know what she might be able to see or hear. It was with a huge sense of relief that he heard Hamish ask, "Can I get down now please, mummy?" And Cameron asked the same thing a moment later.

"Yes. Into the bathroom please, boys. Wash your hands and faces and brush your teeth. I _will _be in to check." Dill waited until the boys had left and then turned to him. "Are you alright? You look a little dazed."

"You don't find that weird?" Ty asked. "Hamish smells that the postman has stepped in dog mess even before we hear him, and Cameron knows that…." He stopped, aware that he'd just admitted it.

"Cashus knows you've cried," Dill finished. "You old fool. There's nothing wrong with shedding a tear occasionally. You have to let it out sometimes."

"Just once or twice," he said softly. "When I missed you badly and had drunk too much."

Dill got up and kissed the back of his neck, her lips brushing his navel. "I've cried for you more than that," she whispered.

"Oh god, Dill," Ty moaned, as her hands slipped around to caress his nipples. "I can't believe the way you make me feel."

"Believe it, flyboy," she said softly, her lips kissing down his neck. "We'll see just how good I can make you feel later."

"Oh, yes," he gasped, as her hand slid into his pants, stroking his hardening cock. "It's not fair. I want you now."

"I know you do my lover. I want you too."

Ty's hands slid inside her robe and he slipped off his chair, ready to bury his face in her, but she held him back.

"No, Ty. Not now. That really would be difficult to explain," Dill groaned. "I need to check that the boys are washing properly. You see to Izzy for me. Change her nappy and get her dressed. No dresses, Ty. Overalls. She'll be crawling around at the crèche, and getting covered in paint and whatnot."

"You could always tell them I was looking for my bajamas," Ty chuckled.

"Because that's where I keep them, is it?" she giggled. "Go on. You see to Izzy and I'll deal with the boys. Malcolm will be here soon, they need to be dressed and ready." With a final lick to his navel she left him with Isobel.

For a few minutes they sat and looked at each other. "Looks like it's you and me again, dumpling," he drawled. "No spooging me this time, okay?" He picked her up, and blowing raspberries on her stomach, carried her out of the room.

When he came back with Izzy, all washed up and freshly dressed in a pair of pink short overalls and a pale pink t-shirt, Ty had the shock of his life. Standing in the kitchen was a man who at first glance looked so like him that he was instantly furious with Dill. He was convinced that she'd done what he told her not to and looked for his family.

"You must be the father," the man said in a soft highland accent. "Malcolm Macdonald." He held out his hand. "I understand you're a military man?"

Hugging Isobel to him, McQueen held out his free hand. "T.C. McQueen. Yes, I'm military. United States Marine Corps."

"A long way from the United States are you not?"

"And so was Dill when I met her," Ty said tersely.

He was staring, he knew, but he couldn't help it. This man was easily his height. He had the same slim build, short silver hair and blue eyes. McQueen was desperate to see if the man had a navel on the back of his neck. Instead Ty looked him up and down, from the dark brogues he wore to the kilt and sporran, topped with a battered tweed hacking jacket.

"Ah, wee Dylan," the man smiled. "How strange that a highland girl such as herself should have a Welsh name. And that you, an American, should have a Scot's one."

McQueen walked past him, still staring, unable to stop himself, and put Isobel in her highchair. "The boys will be ready in a minute. Dill's getting them dressed."

Ty was shocked to find that the man didn't have a navel. He couldn't be related to him. McQueen wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed, but suddenly he was furious with Dill again. How dare she have someone hanging around his children who looked so much like him! And why? Ty's heart leapt into his mouth. What if she was sleeping with this guy, pretending he was McQueen?

"It must be nice to be home, in the bosom of your family," Malcolm said quietly, aware that he was being appraised and found wanting in some way.

"How long have you been ghillie here?"

"About ten years. My father before me was ghillie to Mrs. Mackenzie, and now I'm ghillie."

McQueen thought about that statement for a while. "So you've known Dill all her life?"

"You could say that, yes."

"I am saying that," McQueen growled. "Have you slept with her?"

"I beg your pardon?" Malcolm was flustered at such a question.

"You heard me," McQueen snapped. "Have you slept with my wife?"

"Yes, he has," Dill said from the doorway. She looked down at the boys. "Go outside, boys. Wait in Malcolm's car. He won't be long. Take Izzy with you." She walked over and lifted the child from her chair.

Hamish grabbed Isobel. Easily carrying her in his arms, he went out the back door, Cameron at his heels.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dill asked.

"How long have you been sleeping with him?" McQueen yelled, his temper suddenly taking hold of him.

"We dated, Ty, years ago, before ever I met you. I was in my teens. Why the hell are you acting like this? This is not you," she cried.

"No, he's not me, but am I him?" Ty thundered. "Take a good look, Dill. What do you see?" He stood next to Malcolm.

Her eyes widened. "I… I'd never noticed. I mean, he's Malcolm. I've always known him. And you're you. But you look like brothers," she whispered.

"What did you do, dump her? Break her heart?" McQueen yelled at Malcolm. Then he turned to Dill. "What were you looking for, Dill? A replacement? Someone as close as you could get? You must have thought you'd struck gold - a stupid tank who'd be convinced it was him you wanted!" He stormed out of the room, determined to get away from the both of them.

"Shit!" Dill cried. "Shit, shit, shit!" She looked at Malcolm. "You'd better go. Can you drop Izzy at my mother's? And tell her not to come near the place for the next few hours. It's going to take me a long time to sort this one out."

"Of course." Malcolm smiled at her ruefully. "I'm sorry, Dylan. I really am."

"It's not your fault. How I didn't see the resemblance before, I have no idea," she sighed. "I'd better get after him before he runs." Dill ran down the hallway and into their bedroom.

"Go away," Ty snapped.

"I will not. You'll have to make me!" She stood in the doorway and challenged him.

Seeing the determination on her face, Ty sat on the bed. "Why? Why have you done this to me? Do you hate me that much?" Dill could see the tears in his eyes as he looked up at her. "Are the boys even mine?"

Dylan walked across the room and slapped his face. "How dare you! After all you put me through... why do you think I had that paternity test done? So you could never, NEVER ask that!"

"We look the same. How do I know he's not genetically the same?" Ty's hand crept to his face where she'd slapped him.

"Don't be so bloody stupid!" Dill told him, desperately trying to keep a hold on her temper. "How could he be the same as you? Malcolm's family have always lived here. There are no invitros in his lineage, which he would be proud to tell you is traceable to beyond the Jacobite rebellion. And you, as you so often say, are the offspring of an eyedropper and a petri dish!"

McQueen paled in anger. "How can you say that to me!" he yelled into her face. "How often have I listened to you telling me I'm more than that? Well, now you're showing your true colours! Tell it like it is, Dill - I'm just a stupid tank that you picked up when he threw you over. I can't believe I let myself believe all the bullshit you've fed me over the past five years. You took me for a sucker, alright. I hope you're proud of yourself. You ought to take up acting - you certainly had me fooled. And I actually thought you cared about me!"

"I do care about you, you fucking arsewipe!" Dill snarled at him. "And don't you dare pretend otherwise. You know I do, so stop this right now, before we both say anything else we'll regret!"

"The only thing I regret is the day I met you!" Ty spat at her.

Dill gasped, her face paling in shock. "You bastard!"

"No, that's you, remember? Technically I'm an orphan. You're the bastard!"

She could feel her fists clenching, her whole body shook with the effort not to hit him.

"Go on, you know you want to hit me," Ty sneered. "After all, what do my feelings matter? I'm only a cheap substitute!"

Dill closed her eyes and took several deep, calming breaths and tried to centre herself, just as Ty'd taught her. Finally, having controlled her temper, she whispered, "You were never a substitute. I dumped him, Ty. I found out he was sleeping with a friend of mine and I dumped him. We would never have lasted anyway - we just aren't suited. Unlike you and me."

"Dream on," he growled at her.

"If we're not suited, how come you keep getting me pregnant?"

"That's all you wanted, wasn't it? Babies. Babies that look like him. What do you do, pretend they're his?" McQueen snapped, looking about for his boots.

"Yes, Ty, that's what I wanted," Dill said, forcing herself to speak calmly to him. Her whole body was shaking again. "That's why when you told me you couldn't give me children I told you that it didn't matter. That I loved you anyway, and that you were all I needed."

For a second Ty's anger ceased as he pondered her words, but then remembering the times she'd refused to allow him to wear a condom, it sparked again. "What did you do, get that damn nurse to lie on the chart? To say they're mine, but really they're his?"

That did it. He'd said enough. "You ignorant, nasty minded piece of shit!" Dill yelled, pushing him backwards onto the bed. "You fucking arsewipe! You cocksucking son of a bitch! You stupid, fucking dickhead! You… you … you fucking tank!"

McQueen grabbed her arm, pulling her down with him. "Don't you hit me, you natural born bitch!" he snarled. "You fucking tank brat!"

Pulled off balance, Dill fell on top of him, her head smashing into his face, knocking his head back into the bed. For a second they lay there, Dill struggling to get up. And then Ty freed her, his hand going to his face. "Shit! I think you broke my nose!"

Finding her feet, Dill took one look at him and paled, all anger gone at the sight of his blood streaked face. "Oh god, Ty! I didn't mean to! You pulled me off my feet!" She dashed into the bathroom for a wash cloth.

Ty sat on the bed, the blood flowing freely now, as Dill came back with the cloth. All thoughts of the row were driven from her mind.

"I'm so sorry, baby. Does it hurt?" She held the cloth to his nose. "Put your head back."

"If I do that the blood will run down my throat and choke me," Ty mumbled.

"Then lean forward and let it out."

"I'll make a mess of the sheets."

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Dill cried. "Do you think I care about the sheets? I'm far more worried about you. Let's get the bleeding stopped, and then we'll get mother to take a look and see if it's broken... if that handsome face is going to be ruined by a squished nose."

Ty smiled hesitantly. "Sorry. I lost it a bit there, didn't I? I didn't mean it, Dill. I really didn't. I'll never regret the day I met you. It was the best day of my life. Even seeing the children born doesn't come close, and that was amazing. If it wasn't for you, I'd still be a lonely tank, too scared to let himself feel. Frightened of showing that he cares. Alone until I died, with no one to stand at my grave."

"I'm sorry about the petri dish remark. That was below the belt. And don't you worry, my lover. When you die, at the grand old age of a hundred and fifty, there'll be plenty of weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. I promise." Dill stood looking at him; at the blue eyes looking forlornly over the top of the already bloodstained wash cloth. "I love you. You could never be a cheap substitute. Not to me, not ever. They're your children, Ty. All three of them."

"I know," Ty whispered. "Sorry. I was freaked. I thought you'd gone looking for my family, even though I asked you not to."

"I wouldn't do that. You said not to. Why would I risk what we have on the chance that I might find you a brother or sister?"

McQueen reached out to pull her to him. "He does look like me though, Dill. Or I look like him. It's one hell of a coincidence. Do you have a thing for blue eyed blonds?" he teased.

"I honestly never noticed. I mean, he's just Malcolm to me. We dated when I was about seventeen, I think. Not for long even. He thought he was God's gift to women." Dill chuckled, shaking her head as Ty pulled her onto his lap. "Careful - mind your nose!"

"You didn't see the resemblance when we first met?" he asked, carefully taking the wash cloth away from his face.

"No, I was far too scared to think about anything like that. I had no idea where I was going. I'd never flown before, let alone gone into space. I was terrified, until I saw a pair of startling blue eyes laughing at me... some lovely silver curls disappearing under a damn fine hat…"

"Cover…"

"I beg your pardon - some sexy silver curls disappearing under a damn fine cover. And an odd, but lickable, bump on the back of your neck." Dill grinned impishly. Her hand slid down to squeeze his butt. "And one hell of a kissable backside."

"Kissable?"

"Oh, yes. Want me to show you?" she whispered, her breath hot in his ear.

"Oh god, Dill…," Ty yawned.

"That's flattering," she smiled. "I guess I know who needs to go back to bed."

"Coming with me?" he grinned.

"I think after all this excitement you actually need to sleep, Ty. There's always tonight. You didn't get in till late, and you were up again a few hours later." Dill stroked the back of his neck. "You need to give your face a wash, baby, and this sexy chest, too. You sleep while I pop up to Inverness."

"I'm up again now, Dill," Ty whispered.

"I can feel," she giggled. "But if that nose gets hurt again it'll never heal. So please, baby, take a nap and I'll be back real soon, I promise."

"Lie down with me, please?" he pleaded, pouting.

"Okay, but I want you to go to sleep."

"Yes, Dill," Ty sighed, flinging himself back onto the bed and slipping under the covers, holding them for her. "Why do I suddenly know how the boys feel at bedtime?"

"Ty, please mind your face! If that's broken you are going to have two great big black eyes," Dill giggled, climbing in with him. "My own beautiful panda bear."

"With the kissable butt!" Ty laughed as he snuggled against her, glad that she'd not had time to get dressed any more than he had. She still wore only her robe.

"Ty," Dill warned as his hand slipped inside it. "Stop it."

"Do you really want me to?" he whispered, undoing the tie and loosening it.

"You know the answer to that," she gasped, as pulling the robe open, Ty bent to lick a bared nipple. "Oh god, I've missed you. I've missed you doing that."

McQueen sucked her nipple into his mouth and suckled, while one hand slid down to twirl the curls of her pubic hair, before gently slipping a finger inside her. "Oh, Dill" he groaned. "You're real wet already. It's so inviting, and such a turn on, knowing I do that to you."

"Oh, you do," Dill moaned as his fingers worked her. Her own hands were stroking his back, tracing the scars along his shoulder, before she bent to nibble his neck and lick the exposed navel.

"Feel me, Dill," Ty mumbled around her nipple. "Feel what you do to me. Sometimes on the 'Toga, just thinking about you does this to me."

She slid a hand down his back, pushing it under the waistband of his sweatpants. Kneading his behind, she then slipped her hand around to feel his erection, stroking it, gently pumping it, enjoying the way he thrust into her hand.

"And what do you do about it, flyboy?" Dill groaned as he began to work her harder.

"What do you think?" Ty chuckled. "Haven't you noticed that one arm's got more muscles than the other?"

"Ty!" she gasped, as his thumb began to rub her clit. "I'm not sure if I like that idea."

"Why?" he muttered, as his mouth left one nipple to lavish attention on its twin.

"It's kind of seedy, don't you think? The sad, lonely guy jerking off in his bare little room."

"Well, thank you very much," Ty chuckled. "Does it help to know I'm looking at a picture of you when I do it? Or that I call your name when I come?"

"That makes it worse!" Dill cried. "I wish you hadn't said that. I'm feeling really sad now."

McQueen stopped suckling her breast and looked up into her face. "You are so silly, Dill. You asked in the first place. What did you think I was going to say? I'm a man, Dill. You know yourself that most mornings I wake up and there it is, saying hi to the world."

"Well, it's still seedy and sad." Dill groaned as Ty's fingers left her, and she felt him pushing her hand away from him.

Ty moved, and with one swift thrust, was inside her. He gently slid himself in and out, withdrawing as far as he could before thrusting fully into her again. "Sad and seedy, am I?" he groaned into her shoulder. "We'll see about that."

"Oh yes, Ty," Dill whispered. "That feels so good. I swear you were made for me. You know exactly how to make me feel good."

"The same could be said about you," Ty mumbled into her neck, his hands reaching to grip her and hold her steady as he increased his speed. "Oh god, Dill, you feel so good."

"Come on, flyboy," she giggled, bucking her hips up to meet his. "Let go, baby... really let go."

"Oh yeah," he groaned. "I am, I really am."

Again McQueen increased his pace, until his body was pumping fast and furious into her, his breathing laboured and his eyes tightly shut, as he buried himself deeply. His body took control as he felt her muscles contracting around him, her body trembling and her hands gripping him tightly as she came. Her body shuddered underneath him as he pounded into her mindlessly, his own consciousness lost in the needs of his body, until finally, with a soul wrenching cry, he came, his body jerking as his muscles spasmed, and he collapsed, hardly able to breathe.

Opening his eyes a while later, Ty found he was alone in the bed. Turning, he saw Dill in the bathroom. "Hey, Dill, come back to bed."

"No," she smiled. "Sleep, my lover. You need to sleep." She came over and kissed his forehead. "You're getting black eyes already. I did break your nose. I'm so sorry, darling."

"It's my fault," Ty yawned. "If I hadn't pulled you down, it wouldn't have happened."

"Come on now. Snug up and go back to sleep. You'll need your energy for the children this afternoon." Dill pulled the covers over him and kissed him softly on the lips.

"Yes, Dill," Ty mumbled, as he slowly began slipping back into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer:  
The characters and situations of the TV program "SPACE: Above and Beyond" are the creations of Glen Morgan and James Wong, Fox Broadcasting and Hard Eight Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. Dylan Mackenzie belongs to me.

MANY THANKS to Karen, she's the bestest beta ever, and Vasalysa – who showed me the dark side.

McQueen's Ark 3.

McQueen tossed and turned in the bed. The covers were wrapped tightly around him and he fought them desperately, his arms flailing, as moaning and crying out, he tried to escape his nightmare….

_He had a few precious moments to get up and away from her before she grabbed him again. He tried, but she was too fast, and he found himself pressed face down into the bed. Her weight was on his thighs where she sat, and he felt her weight on his back as well as she leant on him ,whispering in his ear, "What is it tanks are good for? Fucking and fighting? Well, we've seen how shit you are at fighting... can't even beat a woman, you fucking baby. So shall we see how you like to be fucked?"_

_His heart almost stopped as he felt her pulling on his pants, wrenching them down around his thighs. He began to struggle, unable to truly believe that she really would violate him in such a way. She loved him - he knew she did. As he felt her fingers kneading his behind, panic set in and he began to struggle wildly, his eyes wide with fear as her fingers pushed at his anus._

"_No, Dill! Don't do it!" he screamed, his cries muffled by the bed sheets. "Please, Dill, don't do this to me!" He began to sob as her fingers entered him swiftly and smoothly. He gripped the sheets, unable to do much more, his body frozen in shock. Not that she was hurting him, but that she was actually doing this to him. He felt her slip a hand underneath him, grasping his cock and beginning to pump him. Despite himself, he felt his body responding. It sickened him. "Please, Dill," he begged, his whole body trembling as he sobbed. "Stop it. Don't do this to me. Not you. I can't take this from you. I'll do anything you want, but please don't do this to me! Not now... not like this! Not like this, Dill. Please..." He began to shudder more violently as her fingers stroked his prostate, and her hand pumped him faster until at last, no matter how hard he fought it, his body took over and he orgasmed into her hand._

_She stopped. Her hands left his body and she was gone, leaving him face down on the bed, blood, tears and semen mingling on the sheets where he sobbed pitifully into them. He slowly pulled at his pants and sat up, looking for her. She was nowhere to be seen. Wiping his face, he stood on shaky legs, and taking several deep breaths, began to look for somewhere to hide before she came back…._

Malcolm didn't know what to do. Here he was, sitting in a small rowing boat in the middle of the loch with two small boys, one of whom was having a seizure from what he could see. Cameron was pale and shaking. His voice came in broken sobs. "My… daddy!" he cried. "…my…daddy…." The boy'd been repeating it over and over for the last five minutes, while Hamish had stared at him, open mouthed.

"What about your daddy, wee one?" Malcolm asked him.

"Daddy's cr… cry… crying," Cameron sobbed.

Hamish's eyes widened. "Daddy's crying?" he whispered.

"I wanna go home!" Cameron suddenly wailed. "I wanna go home!"

Deciding that that indeed might be the best course of action, Malcolm turned the boat around and headed for shore. By that time Cameron was shaking again, his breath coming in short, sharp pants. Malcolm made one stop on the way to Dill's house to pick up Moira, who'd taken one look at Cameron and run for her medical bag. She checked the little boy out in the car as Malcolm drove the short distance to their home.

"What's the matter with him, Moira?"

"Cameron is fine. It's T.C. I'm worried about," Moira told him. "Drive faster, Malcolm."

"The boy is not fine. Look at him, for God's sake!"

"He'll be fine. Something's happened to T.C. Hurry!"

The car pulled up, spraying gravel, as Moira opened the door and Cameron flew out of the car and disappeared around the back of the house. Moira's eyebrows raised, and together the others made their way inside, Hamish clinging desperately to Moira's hand.

"Dylan? T.C.?" Moira called, hoping they were there.

Hamish took off down the hallway calling out, "Daddy, where is you?"

Moira followed him, praying she would see two red-faced grins as she pushed open the bedroom door. What she didn't expect was to see the bed in a mess and covered in bloodstains. Her heart pounded in her chest as she raced out of the room. "Malcolm! Are they out there?"

"No, Moira. Do you want me to go look?"

Just then Moira heard Cameron screaming for her. She turned and ran back into the kitchen and out of the back door, stopping only to hear where his calls were coming from. She ran towards the wood shed, her stomach churning. She found Cameron on his knees behind the huge pile of wood. And tucked into the furthest corner was McQueen, his head bent to his chest, showing his neck navel clearly, but also emphasising the blood on his chest. He wore only a pair of black sweatpants, and his feet were bare.

"Daddy!" Cameron pleaded, reaching for him. "Daddy, come out!"

McQueen flinched as the boy's fingers brushed against his bare flesh, and Moira heard a strangled sob.

"Cameron, sweetie, let me try," she told him, pulling him away. "Go and tell Hamish and Malcolm we found him. Tell Malcolm we didn't find mummy though."

Cameron was torn. On the one hand, here was Gamma telling him what to do, but on the other, here was daddy, who needed a cuddle.

"Cameron, please," Moira said quietly, but firmly.

Reluctantly the small boy backed out of the cramped space, and Moira eased herself in. "It's okay T.C. It's me, Moira," she whispered to him. "I can see that you're hurt. Let me help you, please. I need you to come out of there. Do you think you can do that for me? I can't reach you. T.C. - look at me."

McQueen's head came up slowly and Moira gasped. His face was a mess. His nose was swollen and bloody, and he had the beginnings of two black eyes.

"Who did this to you?" Moira saw the dull, dead look in his eyes, and was immediately terrified for Dill. "Where's Dylan, T.C. Where's Dill?"

At the mention of Dill's name McQueen dropped his head, and his shoulders began to shake as his body was wracked with sobs again.

"Is she okay? Is she hurt?" Moira watched as, very slowly, his head gave a tiny shake.

"She's not hurt?" Again the tiny shake.

"Look at me." McQueen looked up into her eyes, and she looked more closely at his face.

"Did Dylan do this to you?" She prayed the shake would come, but to her horror this time it was a slight nod. She'd have missed it if she'd not been looking for it.

"Oh, T.C. Please," Moira reached out to him, grabbing his hand as he tried to pull away, "come inside with me. Let me clean you up." He huddled further back.

"Come on, T.C., you need to come out of there. I won't hurt you, I promise. Please, Ty." Moira saw the look that crossed his face, knowing she'd never called him Ty before. "Come on, Ty, let me help you."

Very slowly McQueen began to edge closer to her. Moira heared voices and turned, but still she held onto Ty's hand.

"We couldn't find her, Moira," Malcolm told her.

"She'll be up at the bothy. That's where she always went as a child when she'd done something she knew was wrong. Don't you go, Malcolm. I'll get her later... give her some breathing space. I have more serious things to deal with here." Moira looked at the two boys standing behind Malcolm. She wanted to send them away, but knew they needed to stay near their daddy. "Malcolm, take the boys inside and put the TV on for them. Get them a drink and some biscuits and then leave. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Yes, Moira," he said, recognising her no-nonsense tone. Malcolm gathered the boys in his arms and took them inside.

She'd almost managed to get McQueen out into the open when Moira saw Malcolm returning. Instantly McQueen stiffened, his body beginning to tremble. "No, Malcolm, stay there! I'll speak to you later."

"Dylan's car has gone, Moira," he said. "Wherever she is, she's gone by car. She can't get to the bothy by car."

"Please, Malcolm, leave!"

He nodded and walked away round the side of the house.

Once he'd gone Moira coaxed McQueen out further, and taking his hand, she put an arm around him and led him indoors. She led him into the bathroom and shut the door. "I'm going to tell the boys that you're here," she told him. "Don't move."

She was back a few minutes later, her medical bag at her side. "Come on then, my love. Let's take a look at that face." Moira spent twenty minutes gently washing him, talking to him the whole time in a soft and gentle soothing voice. Not once did he reply. He simply sat on the edge of the bath motionless, staring at the floor, lifting his head only when she lifted it herself. His total withdrawal scared Moira. Whatever had happened with him and Dylan was bad, that she could tell. McQueen looked traumatised. As she cleaned the blood from his chest, Moira wondered about what could have happened to do his to him. She closed her eyes as a thought hit her. Surely Dylan wouldn't have done that to him?

"Stand up, Ty," Moira said as she finished cleaning off the last of the blood. "Look at me." When he was looking at her, Moira stared McQueen straight in the eyes. "Did Dill hurt you? Did she…." She could hardly bring herself to say it. In the end she didn't have to. A tear crept slowly down McQueen's face, followed by another, until he was silently sobbing in front of her.

"Let me see the damage," she told him, turning him until he was facing the wash basin. Moira reached to pull Ty's pants down, but he grabbed her hand to stop her.

"If you won't let me examine you, will you at least tell me?" she pleaded.

McQueen shook his head, but tears began to fall again, his chest heaved with the effort to stop them. Moira wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly to her, stroking his head. "It's alright, Ty. It is. Let it out," she cooed to him, feeling him relax into her arms. His own wrapped around her and held on tightly, as the dam burst and his whole body shook with the force of his cries.

Moira waited until Ty'd calmed, and lifting his head, kissed him on the forehead. "I don't want you to get the wrong impression about me. You'll always be a rotten tank, but you're my rotten tank, okay?" She smiled at the tiny nod. "Come on. I think I'll run you a bath to help you relax, and then I'm going to give you something to help you sleep."

McQueen shook his head.

"No to the bath or the drugs?"

"The drugs," he whispered.

"Take the bath and we'll see," Moira told him firmly. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

He shook his head.

"Promise me you won't do anything silly," she said as she turned the taps on.

"Promise," he said softly.

"And don't lock this door."

She left him to run the bath and went into the bedroom, stripping the sheets and making him up a clean bed. She debated on whether to drug him without telling him, but decided against it. Ty'd already had enough traumas for one day. Moira went to check on the boys, telling them that daddy was having a bath and that he was going to bed afterwards. They could come and give him a kiss once she'd tucked him up. Then she went back to the bathroom.

Moira tapped on the door before going in, and found McQueen still sitting, staring at the water in the bath. He hadn't moved except to turn the taps off.

"Come on," she said, sounding every inch the doctor that she was. "Stand up."

Ty stood up listlessly, lifting first one foot and then the other as Moira slipped his pants down his legs. "In the bath, Ty." He stepped in and sat down, his arms wrapping around his knees.

"I'm going to wash you over and then find you some pyjamas to put on. We'll get you dressed and put you to bed, okay?"

He just sat there his arms wrapped around his knees, his face blank. Moira's heart felt like it would burst. He looked so lost - so alone and forlorn.

She sat on the edge of the bath. "Tell me, Ty. Tell me what happened. Please."

He shook his head vehemently.

"Well, I've already worked out that Dylan did this to you. But I don't understand why. She adores you. Help me understand why, Ty."

"It wasn't Dill," he whispered.

"It was someone else? Where's Dill, Ty?" The thought that they'd been attacked almost stopped her heart.

"Inverness," he said quietly. "Shopping."

"So how did you come to look like this?" Moira asked softly.

"We had a row. I pulled her off her feet, she fell on me, and her head hit me in the face. I think my nose is broken."

Moira smiled wryly. "I'd say that's an accurate statement. That's where all the blood is from? You are going to have two spectacular black eyes tomorrow."

Ty nodded. "Dill cleaned me up, but I must have hit my nose again, because I woke up covered in blood.

"But that doesn't explain why you were hiding in the wood shed."

He hung his head, a crimson blush creeping up his neck and face. "I had a nightmare," he finally whispered, so softly Moira had to strain to hear.

"A nightmare? "

He nodded.

"I'm guessing it was pretty bad, the way it affected Cameron," Moira said thoughtfully.

"Cameron?"

"Yes. He had a seizure of some kind. He forced Malcolm to bring him home, and thank God they stopped to pick me up. Can you tell me about it?"

Ty shook his head.

"I think I can make an educated guess, considering the state you were in." Moira thought for a moment. "It must have been to do with your row, because you said Dill had hurt you. I'm guessing it was violent. We both know how she can be. From the state of you I thought maybe she'd done something terrible to you, but you stopped me checking. She did it to you in the nightmare?"

He nodded.

"That's why you ran when you woke up. You woke up covered in blood from your nose, and thought the whole thing was real. You had to getaway?"

Again he nodded.

"No wonder Dill made you get help. You are still having therapy, aren't you?"

"Yes," Ty said softly.

"Good boy. Come on, let's dry you off and get you into bed. I told the boys they could see you once you're tucked up." Moira smiled at his startled look. "Ty, they are scared silly for you. They need to see that you're okay. I know you look frightful, but they need to cuddle you. And for you to cuddle them."

Moira let him dry himself off and led him by the hand into the bedroom. "I've changed the sheets. Come on now, into these pyjamas and into bed." She handed him the blue banana pyjamas before pulling back the covers for him to get in. "Try to sleep. I'm going to get the boys now, and then I'll wait for Dill."

"No," he whispered.

"No rest? No boys, or no Dill?" she asked.

"Don't tell Dill," Ty said in a soft voice filled with despair, as having pulled on the pyjamas, he got into bed. "Please."

Moira sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his hair. "Oh, my love, I have to. She's my daughter, and heaven knows she'd never forgive me if I didn't."

"She'll leave me," McQueen whispered. "I love her. I don't want to lose her."

"I know you do. She knows you do. And you're wrong, Ty - she won't leave you."

He rolled away from her.

Sighing, Moira got up and went to see the boys.

"Okay, chaps, daddy is in bed. He's very, very sad, and even mummy can't make him happy at the moment. He needs cuddles from you, but be gentle. He has a very poorly face."

The boys followed her, both of them looking worried, but smiling at the sight of their daddy in the bed. They climbed up onto the bed and wrapped their arms around him, kissing his face softly. He rolled onto his back and cuddled them to him, one in each arm, a smile on his face.

Moira smiled as she closed the door on them. She headed to the kitchen. After this she really needed a cup of tea.

An hour later Dill arrived home, her arms filled with bags.

"Hi mother. What are you doing here?"

"Thank God you're home," Moira said wearily. "It's been like... well, who knows what it's been like? Cameron pitched a fit about Ty and scared Malcolm witless. They came and got me, and we all got back here to find Ty in the woodshed…."

Dill stopped unpacking her groceries and turned to Moira, confused. "Mother, what _are _you talking about? What was Ty doing in the wood shed? He was sound asleep when I left him."

"It seems he had a nightmare," Moira sighed. "He dreamt that you and he had a row… and you sexually assaulted him. He was traumatised by it for quite a while, before he could speak and tell me that it had been a nightmare. Until then I thought you had done it to him."

Dill gripped the kitchen counter, her face paling. "You thought I'd do that to him? After all we've been through together? My God, that would be the end of us, mother. I wouldn't do that to him. Is he alright? Where is he?" She made to leave the kitchen, but Moira reached out and held her back.

"He's in bed. The boys are with him. He'll have the most spectacular black and purple eyes. His nose is definitely broken, Dill. He says you fell on him?" she said disbelievingly.

"It's true. We were arguing. I was ready to hit him and pushed him over onto the bed. He grabbed me and dragged me with him. My head hit him full in the face. His nose just exploded everywhere," Dill said in a horrified voice. "I have to see him!"

She ran down the hallway and into the bedroom. Ty was lying on his back, the boys asleep snuggled each side of him.

"Hey, Dill," he whispered. "From the look on your face, I guess she told you?"

"Oh, baby!" she cried, moving to the bed and sitting carefully, trying not to disturb the boys.

Moira appeared in the doorway. "Let me move the boys into their own beds so you can have a little privacy," she smiled, gently lifting Hamish in her arms and carrying him out.

"I'll get Cameron and then we need to talk," Dill told Ty, picking up the other sleeping boy.

In the hallway her mother, having put Hamish in his bed, took Cameron from her. "Go back to him, Dill. He needs you badly at the moment. He really was quite traumatised by the whole thing, and he's scared you'll leave him."

"My poor baby," Dill whispered as she went in and closed the door behind her.

McQueen was sitting up, his arms around his knees. "I'm sorry, Dill."

"Why are you sorry, my lover?"

"I scared everyone with my nightmare."

"It's okay. They'll all get over it. I'm more concerned about you. Mother told me what your nightmare was about." Dill sat down and wrapped her arms about him, kissing his cheek softly. "I would never do that to you, my lover. Not ever, not even in anger. I'm managing to control my temper, thanks to those breathing exercises you showed me. I know I shouted, but I didn't hit you, did I?"

"No," Ty said quietly, leaning into her arms and nuzzling against her neck. "I need you, Dill."

"You want us to make love?" she asked him.

"No," he whispered, his head nuzzling down her neck.

"Ah," she smiled. "Come on then. Let's lie down and I'll take my shirt off."

Dill removed her shirt and bra and lay down, pulling Ty to her as, with his eyes closed, he nuzzled her breast and began to suckle. She stroked his hair as she felt his body begin to relax, and his hand begin to knead at the breast he suckled from.

"It's okay, Ty." Dill spoke softly to him, reassuring him as he sought comfort from her. "I won't leave you. I love you far too much. You've been so good about your sessions with Hilary, and she told me you've not missed a single one. That must have been difficult to do. Especially if you were involved in any fighting."

"Glen made sure I didn't miss them. He even ordered me off the bridge once," Ty mumbled around her nipple. "I thought my sessions were private. Why are you talking to her?"

"They are, my lover, but she's spoken to me too. There have been a few things she said that she and I needed to discuss," she told him.

"Like what?"

"Oh, that would be telling!" Dill chuckled. "My sessions are private too!"

"Do you talk about me?" His interest was piqued now.

"Of course. We talk about how I feel about our relationship... how I perceive it."

"Oh," Ty mumbled.

"And we talked about this too," Dill smiled. "The way you seek comfort from me. There's no milk. You do know that, don't you?"

"I know there's no milk, but I thought you didn't mind?" he said, releasing her nipple and lifting his head to look at her, panic in his eyes.

"I don't. I like it," she smiled at him. "It sort of... well, it strengthens my love for you, I guess. It's like it bonds you to me more. When you need comfort, you seek it from me. When you can, obviously. Though I do worry about how you cope on the 'Toga, with no breast to suckle. Have you taken to sucking your thumb instead?"

"No!" Ty said indignantly. "I'm not a child!"

"Aren't you? Are you sure about that?" Dill asked. "We've talked about that, too. The fact that I treat you like a child. I'm sorry, Ty. I don't mean to, but I dominate you, and that's unfair."

"No, you don't," Ty whispered.

"Yes, I do. I boss you around and take charge all the time. You always give in to me. Hilary says it's because it's ingrained in you to be submissive. In the mines you had to do as you were told, and it's the same in the corps. You're trained to follow orders, and that's what you do. You follow mine, however subliminal they may be…," Dill sighed. "You don't even attempt to dominate me in bed. You work to please me, to make me happy. And sometimes it seems as though you put your own needs last. If I make you feel good... well, that's a bonus. It's not fair, Ty."

"It's true. I do follow orders and have done my whole life. But that doesn't mean you dominate me. And even if you do, do you hear me complaining? You make me happy like I never believed I could ever be. I feel safe with you. I know you'll look after me. That's important to me, Dill. I never had anyone looking after me before. Not ever. You can't begin to imagine how that feels. All those years knowing no one cared what happened to me... if I lived or died... I was just another dirty tank. And then finding you..." Ty kissed her breast softly. "To you, I was someone you loved. You saw how scared I was, and you comforted me. No one had ever done that before. Hilary says you're my mother figure... that I look to you to provide me with the security that a mother would give. And that's why I began feeding from you. When you became a mother, I wanted you for my mother, too."

Dill laughed. "That's what she told me too. And then she told me I encourage you because I want to continue to dominate you. By offering you my breast I keep you submissive to me, or something like that."

"No, Dill. You're exactly what I need... what I missed out on. And I'm sorry that I've put that on you."

"Don't be sorry. I love you, despite all your weird baggage. You're perfect for me, too, despite what you may think. You gave me the confidence I needed with my mother. And you give me comfort, too. When I'm feeling blue you hold me, and I feel so much better knowing you're there to protect me and keep me safe. You're my big, strong marine. You make me feel loved and needed, and that strokes my ego." Dill chuckled. "Of course the fact that you're a damn sexy man helps too!"

"It makes me feel good inside knowing you think that," Ty smiled. "Knowing that you look to me to take care of you... to keep you safe. It makes me feel like a big, strong marine. I guess my ego's stroked too."

"My roughty, toughty man," she snickered.

Seeing that she was going to get the giggles, Ty smiled. He'd told her how he felt and she hadn't run screaming from the room. It was okay. She loved him anyway.

"Dill."

"Yes?"

"Wanna get all hot and sweaty with your roughty, toughty man?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" Dill giggled as he began pulling at her jeans.

They were soon swept away by his urgent need. Ty gripped Dill's shoulders as he pumped furiously inside her, while she wrapped her legs around him and urged him on to greater speed. With a deep, throaty growl he came, plunging deep inside her and collapsing on top of her, his heart racing and his chest heaving from the urgency of it. She stroked his back, kissing his neck and nibbling at his ear as she held him close.

"Wow," she whispered. "That was pretty furious."

"Sorry," Ty groaned, rolling off her.

"Don't be. I enjoyed it. And I'd say you did too!" Dill giggled.

"Mmmm," he sighed, snuggling up to her. "I sure did."

"Go to sleep, Ty." She chuckled as he yawned.

"Yes, Dill," he yawned again.

Dill waited until Ty was snoring softly, then slipped out of bed, and gathering up her clothes, tiptoed into the bathroom to get dressed.

Moira was still sitting in the kitchen, drinking yet more tea. "I made another pot. It should still be drinkable."

"It's your answer to everything, isn't it? A pot of tea," Dill smiled, pouring herself a cup and pulling out a chair.

"Is he okay?" Moira asked.

"I think so. We had a long chat, a few cuddles, and he's sleeping again." Dill sipped her tea. "He's going to need his next session with Hilary, that's for sure."

"And what about you?"

"Me? I'm fine. Worried about my husband, but fine. How are the boys? Still asleep?"

Moira nodded. "They won't sleep long. I think they wore themselves out with fright."

"Well, as long as they sleep long enough for me to make some lunch and go get Izzy, I'll be happy." Dill shook her head. "The poor little chaps must have been terrified."

"Cameron had some sort of seizure. He was pale and shaking, breathless and terrified that something had happened to T.C. We have to stop ignoring it, Dill. There's some kind of link between the two of them. How else would Cameron know about his nightmare? How many times has Cameron announced suddenly that daddy is cross, or that he's sad? How does he know, Dill, when T.C. is away, how he's feeling?" Moira said.

"Don't, mother. Don't say what I know you're implying."

"This has something to do with Hamish, too. Just what did they do to T.C. at his conception? How is it affecting his children?"

"Mother, don't. I really don't want to have this discussion. Not right now. Not today," Dill said tersely.

"When, Dylan? You can't keep burying your head in the sand. Aerotech did something to his genes, and it's affecting your children."

"Don't you think I know that? Do you think I haven't noticed how good Hamish's sense of smell is? Or his hearing? And of course I know Cameron is sensitive to Ty's moods. It's me he gets into bed with in the middle of the night, telling me that daddy is very upset, or cross. It's me he asks if daddy is angry with him," she snapped. "Don't you think I look at Izzy everyday and wonder how she's going to turn out? Dammit, mother, every morning I look at those three little faces smiling at me and I wonder what's going to happen to them. I have Hamish, super soldier, and Cameron the empath. And Izzy... she chuckles to herself like she's hearing things we can't! It's enough to know they'll get called tank brats without them being weird too!"

"You think your children are weird?" Moira was shocked.

"No, they're my babies. Mine and Ty's. I love them so much it hurts. But other people will call them weird and they shouldn't have to go through that. And it's all bloody Aerotech's fault!" Dill fumed.

"Drink your tea and think about lunch. I'll go get Izzy for you. Pink, Dylan? She looked like a raspberry this morning when Malcolm dropped her off."

"That was Ty. I think he feels she's a girl and ought to be dressed like one. I'm going to take him shopping in Inverness and let him choose her some girly stuff," Dill smiled.

"You know full well you'll never put her in it!" Moira chuckled.

"She'll wear it to keep daddy happy. I think he wants a little girly girl to fuss over," Dill grinned.

"Shame he has Izzy then!" Moira laughed. "Does he know she still eats bugs if she gets the chance?"

"Not yet. I haven't had a chance to warn him!" Dill chuckled. "She ate a spider yesterday. Hamish was fascinated and just sat and watched her eat it! Cameron came running to fetch me, but of course by the time I got there it was too late."

"She really is disgusting, Dylan. You have got to stop her." Moira shook her head.

"I'm doing my best, but it's not like I can tape her mouth up, is it? You know what she's like. I turn my back for a second and it's 'oh yum, a woodlouse!'"

"Well, on that revolting thought, I'm off to get her," Moira smiled. "I'd check on the boys if I were you. Wake them up, or they'll not sleep tonight. And if I know you two, you'll want them to go to bed on time."

"Mother!" Dill laughed.

"I had the bedroom next to yours last summer, remember? You two kept me awake more nights than I care to mention!" she threw over her shoulder as she disappeared out of the back door.

Laughing to herself, Dill set about making a late lunch.

McQueen woke to the sound of childish whispers.

"Be quiet, Hamish! Mummy said we mustn't wake daddy up."

"But I wants to kiss him!" came the indignant reply.

"But you had kisses already!"

"Well, I wants more!"

"That's greedy!" Cameron whispered.

"What's that?" Hamish asked.

"A piglet."

"Why you drawing a piglet?"

McQueen lay there, slowly opening his eyes to see what they were up to. He could see two blond heads sitting on the floor by the side of the bed. Obviously they were drawing. But why piglets, he wondered.

"Daddy's going to buy me one."

"Daddy's gonna buy you a piglet?" Hamish said in a voice filed with awe. "Is he gonna buy me a piglet?"

"No."

"What's he gonna buy me?" Hamish asked excitedly.

"Nuffin'."

"Nuffin'?"

Cameron considered for a moment. "A baby goat. Daddy's gonna buy you a baby goat."

There was silence for a while, and then, "What will daddy buy Izzy?"

More silence as Cameron thought about it.

"Daddy's gonna buy Izzy a dress."

Hamish seemed satisfied with that and carried on drawing happily.

"Look, Cam'ron. Daddy's fighting Action Man."

"Why?"

"Because… because…," the little boy was obviously thinking about it. "Because Action Man kissed mummy!" Hamish told him.

"Where's mummy?"

"There, look!" Hamish pointed.

"What's she doing?"

"She's crying."

"Why?"

"Because Action Man kissed her, silly!"

"Why's daddy fighting Action Man?"

"I already tole you! Because he kissed mummy!" Hamish sounded put out by Cameron's obvious lack of concentration.

"Seems like a good enough reason to me," McQueen told them, making them jump.

"Daddy!"

"You's awake!"

Both boys leapt onto the bed, crowding him with hugs and kisses.

"Would you fight Action Man, daddy?" Cameron asked.

"If he kissed mommy, I would. I'd kick his ass," Ty chuckled.

"You'd do what?" came Dill's voice from the doorway. "Don't you listen to him boys. He's a naughty daddy!"

She carried Isobel over to the bed. "Say hello to your dumpling," Dill smiled, as Ty reached out to take the toddler.

"Hello, Dumpling," he grinned, kissing her face. "Only she's not such a dumpling anymore."

"No, she's not, now that she runs around after these two," Dill smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Putting Isobel down and leaning forward, Ty kissed Dill soundly. "There, let Action Man beat that!" he grinned at the boys.

Even Dill laughed.


	4. Chapter 4

McQueen's Ark Chapter 4.

It was a beautiful summer's day. The sky was a clear blue and the sun provided enough heat to be comfortable, but not too hot, as Dill walked along behind Ty and the children. She was pushing Izzy's buggy, which was empty of Izzy, but carrying their picnic lunch. Ty had Izzy on his shoulders, her legs dangling around his neck and her hands clutching at his short silver hair, while the boys ran on ahead of them, trying to hurry him up. They had so much they wanted him to see.

Dill smiled as she realised how alike the boys and he were dressed, something that made the resemblance between them even more pronounced. All three wore denim shorts, Ty's coming to his knees, and plain cotton, short sleeved shirts. They even had similar sandals on their feet.

She almost laughed out loud as she remembered the expression on his face as she'd handed them to him.

"You want me to wear these?" Ty had asked disbelievingly.

"I suppose you thought you'd wear your boots, did you?" she'd grinned.

"My running shoes maybe," he'd said hopefully, looking at the sandals in his hand as if they might bite him.

"What's the matter with them? I asked the man in the store for the chunkiest, manliest ones he had," Dill had responded.

"But they're…"

"Sandals, Ty. They won't hurt you! For goodness sake, last summer you said how nice the boys' ones looked, and maybe you should get some. So I got you some. If you don't want to wear them, fine, don't wear them."

At which point Cameron had come running in to hurry him up. McQueen had looked from the little boy's sandaled feet to the sandals in his hand and back again, before sighing exaggeratedly, and sitting on the edge of the bed, to put them on. "You're dominating me again, Dill," he'd grinned, winking at her.

"Just get your shoes on and help me pack the car," she'd laughed, "before I get my whip out. And no socks!"

"Promises, promises!" Ty had chuckled, as Cameron had pulled him out of the door.

McQueen turned to see what Dill was chuckling about and she gasped. No one would notice that he was an invitro today - they'd all be looking at the two amazingly purple and yellow bruised eyes and the swollen nose he was sporting. The previous afternoon she'd forced him up to the cottage hospital, and her mother had scanned his face, finding that indeed his nose was broken. Fortunately for him it didn't need setting.

Dill grinned at him. "God, you're gorgeous. Did I tell you that today?"

"Uh huh. Right after I looked in the mirror and screamed!" Ty laughed.

"Daddy! Come on!" Cameron pulled at McQueen's shorts.

"Okay, okay. I'm coming," he told the little boy. "So where are we going first?"

"Food for the nanamals," Hamish told him firmly. "We needs food for the nanamals!"

"An-i-mals, Hamish," Dill said absently, watching McQueen's face as they rounded the corner from the car park and he came face to face with a rather large, red, hairy creature with huge horns that was peering over the fence at him.

He stopped and stared at it, whispering to Isobel, "Look, Izzy. It's a cow… I think. Never saw a cow with horns or hair like that though."

"It's a Highland Cow," Dill told him.

"The only cows I've really seen are those black and white dairy ones," Ty told her. "But this is red. And look at all that hair!"

"Have you seen many farm animals, Ty?"

"No, not really. I mean, I've seen cows in a field, but I've not really had anything to do with 'em. Why would I?" Ty told her, smiling as Izzy reached out to stroke the cow. "I've seen stuff in books and in fields, but I've never thought, 'oh, I must go see some sheep' or anything."

"Oh, you're in for a real treat then," Dill chuckled. "This place is designed for kids, to feed and stroke and get real contact with farm animals mainly, but a few others, too."

"Like what?" he asked, as both boys started to pull at him again.

"Tell daddy what animals they have here boys," Dill chuckled.

"Piglets!" Cameron told him.

"Goatses," Hamish offered.

"Horses and rabbits…."

"And sheeps," Hamish added. "Chickens what poo!"

"Anything else you can remember?" Dill prompted.

"Ummm," Cameron thought as he walked along close to McQueen's side. "They had …"

"Wolfs!" Hamish yelled. "And reindeers like Rudolph!"

"They let kids in to stroke wolves?" Ty asked, astonished.

"No, you fool!" Dill laughed. "But they do have a 'meet the animal' session, and that's usually a wolf."

"Oh," he grinned sheepishly.

"Come on, daddy. Let's see the nanamals!" Hamish cried.

"An-i-mals, Hamish," Dill said, following them as they pulled Ty towards the entrance.

With a brief stop to buy animal feed, the boys dragged him to the playground, and by the time Dill caught up with them, Ty was already busily engrossed in digging for treasure in the huge sandpit.

"Come on, you guys. You know the rules," Dill called.

The boys sighed, and throwing down the spades they held, came over to her.

"What rules?" Ty asked, looking round to see what Isobel was up to.

"We walk around and see all the animals first. Then we sit down with a drink and a treat and decide what we'd like to do. Hamish loves the ride on the trailer around the farm. Cameron usually wants to go and do the 'meet the wolf' session. And I generally enjoy just sitting watching them all playing in the sandpit."

"And lunch, mummy. We have lunch too," Cameron said.

"But we washes our handses first, daddy," Hamish told him.

"Oh, yes. We do lots of hand washing, don't we, boys?" Dill smiled.

Glancing over at Isobel, Ty saw her hand going to her mouth. "Oh, God. What's she eating now!" he cried, sprinting over to stop her.

He came back with Izzy in his arms. She chuckled as he tickled her. "And one more bug bites the dust," he grinned. "Why does she do that? Can't you stop her?"

"Why don't you try stopping her?" Dill snapped at him. "Of course I've tried, but what am I supposed to do? Sew her mouth shut?"

Ty's face fell. "Sorry," he mumbled, hoisting Isobel back onto his shoulders and starting to walk away, following the boys as they raced up the field.

Dill reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back to her. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she leant up and kissed him gently on the lips. "No, I'm sorry. I don't know how to stop her, other than carrying some soap around with me and putting it in her mouth every time she eats a bug. But I really don't want to have to do that. I'm sorry, my lover. I don't want to spoil your lovely day. It's just that mother's been on my back about it too."

Letting go of Izzy with one hand, Ty pulled Dill closer to him. "I'm sorry too. I have no right to tell you how to deal with the children. You're the one raising them, not me. I just pop in and spoil 'em for a few weeks a year."

"Of course you have a right! You're their father. Just because you're not here all the time doesn't mean you don't exist to them. They never forget who their daddy is. After all, we get regular updates on how you're feeling from Cameron," she smiled.

They started to walk hand in hand after the boys, Dill having left the buggy and their lunch in the lockers provided, before going to the playground. All she carried now was a small backpack containing a nappy changing kit for Izzy, spare clothing and beakers for all three children, her camera, and her wallet.

"What'd you mean you get regular updates from Cameron?" Ty asked, keeping a firm hold with his free hand on Isobel, who was gaily pulling on his ears.

"Oh, he regularly announces over breakfast that you're happy today, or feeling sad, or maybe angry. Once or twice in the night he's come into bed with me, snuggling up close and crying because he said you had ouchies, or you were crying."

Ty stopped and stared at her. "Really? I had no idea he was doing that. That's... well, that's …."

"Scary?"

"A bit," he admitted, thinking to himself that now he had to start worrying about keeping his emotions in check all the time.

As if she'd read his mind, Dill said, "Now you'll panic about trying to keep your emotions under guard. But don't. Mostly I think it helps him to cope with you not being here, because you're always with him somehow." She grinned. "Come on, let's catch up with the boys. I know for a fact that a certain young man is desperate to show you the piglets."

"Does he really want a piglet?"

"He is totally convinced that you are going to buy him a piglet. I've told him no, but he says 'daddy will buy me one'. So, daddy, it's time to be big and bad and say no," Dill chuckled.

"Why can't he have a piglet?"

"Open your eyes and look!" she told him. "Look where the boys are. Do you see that great big, brown, muddy thing Hamish is busy scratching? That's a grown up piglet. It comes up almost to your waist, Ty. They don't stay small."

"Why does he want one?" he asked.

"Come and see," Dill chuckled, pulling him to where Cameron was cooing over a mound of sleeping piglets, their little feet kicking as they snuffled and snorted in their sleep.

"Oh, Dill!" McQueen cried. "They're so cute! Look at that tiny one Izzy - he's watching us! Look, his ears are all floppy and his nose is twitching! Can he smell us?" he crouched down, pulling Izzy off his shoulders. "Oh, guys, they're lovely, aren't they?" He reached his hand through the fence to touch one, jerking backwards as the whole group began to squeal and run away.

"Daddy, you made 'em run away!" Hamish gave him a trademark "McQueen" glare.

"His ears are floppy and his nose is twitching?" Dill laughed. "If Glen had heard you say that, you would never live it down!"

"Somehow I don't think I will anyway," Ty groaned, a blush creeping up his neck, making her laugh louder and frightening the piglets more.

"Come on, Floppy," she chortled. "There's loads more animals to see. If you thought those were cute, just you wait until you see the pygmy goat kids."

"No scaring the goatses!" Hamish told him, before haring off after Cameron, who'd run towards the goat paddock, Izzy at his heels.

Taking his hand and still snickering, Dill led Ty up the path, following the boys. They came to a large paddock, which they had to enter through a gate. They could see the boys and Izzy already inside, happily stroking the goats. Going in, McQueen started to speak, and blushing again, quickly stopped.

Dill laughed out loud, getting herself glares from all three children that only made her laugh harder. Once she could speak, she giggled, "Oh look, Ty. Look at their teeny, tiny horns, their little itty, bitty feet, and their little twitchy, twitchy ears!"

"Yes, they are cute," McQueen smiled. "I wasn't _that _bad."

"Oh, you were, darling," she chuckled. "But it was so sweet, and that's why I love you. Because really, though you hide it well, you're just a big 'ole softy!"

"I thought I was roughty toughty," McQueen chuckled, crouching down to stroke a tiny goat that was nuzzling him.

"Oh, you are," Dill whispered, leaning to kiss the back of his neck. "My roughty toughty marshmallow man."

"Now there's an image," he laughed.

"Oh, yes," she breathed into his ear. "You, me, some whipped cream, a packet of marshmallows, and some of that chocolate sauce that sets to a hard shell."

To her utter delight, McQueen blushed again to the tips of his ears, which Dill promptly kissed.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Hamish?" Saved by my own sweet, adorable, lovely little guy Ty thought.

"Do you like the goatses?"

"I sure do. They're real cute. Just like mommy." Ty laughed, ducking to avoid the hand she flicked out.

"You beast!" Dill chuckled. "I'm a goat, am I? Just you wait, Floppy - I'll get you for that!"

"I can't wait," he winked at her, reaching out to cuddle Izzy, who'd come to lean against him.

"Ello, daddy!" she cried, planting a wet, sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"Hey, dumpling," Ty smiled, kissing her back, and holding her as she reached to touch the goats.

He was so absorbed in watching Izzy that he didn't notice when the boys began to giggle, or Dill started laughing. It was only when he felt a tugging on his shirt that he looked around and found one of the goats had decided his shirt would make a tasty treat. McQueen stood up hurriedly; pulling his shirt out of the goat's mouth, a look of utter disgust on his face at the state the shirt was in, wet and covered in chewed food. The boys and Dill were almost convulsed with laughter as he looked around for something, anything, to clean his shirt with. He settled on a handful of grass to clean off the worst of the sodden mess still adhering to it.

Finally taking pity on him, as all Ty managed to do was add grass stains to the mess, Dill took out the baby wipes and cleaned him up as best she could.

"I don't suppose you packed a clean set of clothes for me, did you?" he said mournfully.

"Well, as I didn't know you were going to get eaten by a goat, I'm afraid not," Dill smirked. "Oh, I wish I'd thought to take a picture. You should have seen your face!"

"Yeah, well," Ty chortled, hugging her to him, "it's you that has to walk around with me all day, stinking of goat saliva!"

"My lover, if I can deal with three stinky children, I'm sure I can cope with a stinky you too!" Dill tittered. "After all, I can wash you down later... make sure I get you all squeaky clean."

"Nanamal food, daddy?" Hamish asked. "You got the nanamal food?"

"An-i-mal food. Yes, I have it," he said, pulling it out of the thigh pocket of his shorts before crouching down again and holding out a bag each to the boys.

"Careful daddy!" Cameron yelled, as a dozen goats of varying sizes descended on him. "The goats will steal the bags!"

"Goats is greedy!" Hamish yelled, making a grab for a bag at the same time as a goat and getting shoved out of the way.

McQueen stood up swiftly, horrified to discover that was no protection. The sight of the food bags drove the goats into a feeding frenzy, and they clambered over each other and the children to reach them. Dill grabbed for Isobel as the little girl began to cry, and the boys ran back out of the way, as larger goats joined the fray.

"Daddy, is you alright?" Hamish called worriedly when a rather large Nubian goat rested its front feet on McQueen's chest.

"Yeah, I'm okay. They don't eat people, do they?" Ty asked, slightly nervous now, especially since another large goat was leaning against his back.

McQueen stood, his hands in the air clutching the feed bags, in a sea of goats in all sizes and colours, looking for all the world as though he was surrendering to them. Dill decided this was one photo opportunity not to be missed, especially as the Nubian goat most definitely had 'floppy floppy ears'. And to Ty's horror, and despite his threats of what he'd do if she did, she snapped a picture, determined that a copy of this one would make its way to the 58th. Dill knew they'd love the image of their hard nosed C.O. with a look of panic on his face as he was confronted by the goat.

"Throw the food bags away from you, Ty!" she called to him. "Just fling them away. It's the food they're after."

Doing as she said, McQueen heaved a great sigh of relief as the goats ran for the food, leaving him alone at last. Both boys ran to him, wrapping themselves around his legs.

"You okay, daddy?" Hamish asked again.

"Did they hurt you?" Cameron cried.

Reaching down to ruffle their hair, Ty grinned down at them. "No, they didn't hurt me. But I think it was a close run thing! So where next, guys? What other animals do we get to see before mommy buys us our treat?"

"The reindeers!" Hamish cried. "Come on, daddy, let's go see Rudolph!" Taking McQueen's hand, the boy began to lead him away.

"Hang on," Ty said. "Where's that Izzy? Doesn't she need a ride?"

"She's happy walking," Dill told him pointedly. "I think it must be one of the boys' turn now."

"Oh," Ty said, looking at them both beaming at him expectantly. "So who's it going to be first? I think you need to decide that sensibly before anyone gets a ride."

The boys looked at each other, and Hamish whispered, "Cameron. Let Cameron go first."

McQueen squeezed the hand he was still holding. "Hamish, you are such a big boy, letting your brother go first. I'm gonna have to let go of your hand while I pick him up though. That okay, big guy?"

At Hamish's nod, McQueen bent and hugged him before picking up Cameron and settling him on his shoulders. Taking the small boy's hand again, he smiled down at him. "Come on then, let's go see Rudolph and see if his nose really is red!"

Beaming happily, Hamish led him away, with Dill and Isobel following. Isobel happily chuckled away to herself.

On the way to the reindeer there was discussion about the names of Santa's other deer. Both boys were shocked that their daddy didn't know 'The Night Before Christmas'.

"But daddy, you muss know it!" Hamish cried.

"I do," he teased. "The night before Christmas is Christmas Eve."

"No, daddy," Cameron said from his shoulders. "Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house…."

"Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…," Hamish continued.

"The stockings were hung on the chimney with care…," Dill added.

"In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there!" all three chorused.

McQueen shook his head. "Nope, don't know that one," he said gravely. "All I know about the night before Christmas is that it's Christmas Eve."

"Oh, Ty, surely you know it?" Dill asked. "It's probably the most famous of all Christmas stories, other than the Nativity, of course. You can't have gone twenty odd years without hearing it."

"Twenty six years," he told her.

"Twenty five and a half, if you're being picky," Dill said wryly.

McQueen turned to face her, making Cameron grip tightly to his head. "How do you know that?"

"Because a certain husband of mine refused to tell me his birthday, so when he was having his leg replaced, I peeked at his medical notes," Dill grinned impishly.

"You didn't say anything," he said with a frown.

"You obviously didn't want me to know. I was going to wait until you got up the courage to tell me. Either that, or until you came home for Christmas. We could have had a double celebration," she smiled. "Don't worry, I wasn't going to shout it from the rooftops. Does Glen know? Or the 58th?"

"The 58th, definitely not. Glen, I don't know. I've never told him, so unless he's done what you did - and I wouldn't put it past him - no," Ty said resignedly. "At least he's not said anything to me anyway. Do you know what I went through to make sure it wasn't included in the version of my service record that's open to public viewing?"

"I can imagine," Dill chuckled. "Oh, you got lucky with your name, that's for sure!"

"Oh yes," McQueen laughed. "Ever since I learned about the significance of the day, I've been happy to be Tyrus."

"Well, I think Tyrus is a lovely name," she smiled, hugging him. "And it suits you perfectly. Come on - let's go see if Donner and Blitzen are keeping Rudolph company today."

They spent time admiring the reindeer, trying to decide who was who. Surely Vixen was a girl and wouldn't have antlers, Ty had argued, only to have Dill laugh and tell him that all reindeer had antlers. After the reindeer, came the ice creams, all three children studiously washing their hands at one of the many well placed sinks first. Dill casually reminded Ty that he needed to wash his hands too. Then the children had pony rides around a small paddock, while Dill and Ty sat with a coffee, waving at them as they passed. Ty had been totally bemused by the sight of the tiny Shetland ponies. He'd always thought horses and ponies came in one size only. Dill had shaken her head and smiled at him, reaching out to squeeze his hand, realising that this trip was turning into a real eye-opener for him.

After the pony rides Dill had insisted they walk back through the paddocks and fields to the children's play area, where they could sit at a picnic table and eat their lunch. The walk back had been Hamish's turn for a ride from his daddy, and the little boy had been so excited that McQueen was concerned he'd wet himself. A small ruckus had ensued when he'd asked Hamish to go to the toilet first. Hamish had been adamant that he didn't need to go, even when Dill pointed out that they would all go, as Izzy had definitely spooged. Cameron and daddy would pee too while she changed Izzy. Hamish had flung himself to the ground, crying and flailing about, while Cameron had stood and watched, thumb in mouth. Finally McQueen had told him that if he didn't even try to have a pee then Izzy would get the ride instead. Recovering almost immediately from his outburst, Hamish had practically run all the way to the toilets and to McQueen's amusement, had indeed been in what looked like desperate need of a pee.

Lunch had turned into a relaxed and casual affair as soon as Ty'd decided that instead of using a table they'd put down the blanket Dill had brought along and picnic on that. The children had gone from the blanket to the playground and back again innumerable times, and now, with the boys playing leisurely in the sandpit, Ty was lying stretched out on his back with Izzy asleep on his chest.

Dill lay stretched out on her stomach beside him, one hand resting on her chin, the other idly playing with his hair. "So tell me," she asked quietly, "how was it you were decanted on Christmas day?"

Ty looked up into her eyes smiling down at him. "They had a deadline to meet. If they'd missed the wormhole they would have missed their deadline and lost their bonus. Simple as that," he sighed. "So it was in early, decant a few dozen tanks, ship 'em out straightaway, and home in time for Christmas lunch."

"That's awful," Dill whispered, bending to kiss his forehead. "Didn't you get any education at all? I've noticed how much they shove that down peoples' throats. 'All our invitro facilities offer an excellent educational programme'."

"On the ship out we got the basics... how to write our name and to read what Aerotech wanted us to read. But that was it. The only other education we got you really don't want to hear about."

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry." Dill kissed him again, this time on the lips.

"You don't need to be sorry," Ty smiled at her. "I survived, and look at me now. I have you, the children, a real home, and friends I care about. What more could an ill educated tank want?"

"Don't Ty. You know I hate it when you talk like that." At his raised eyebrows, she grimaced. "I know you're going to say 'but it's true', but I still don't like to hear you running yourself down like that. You know how proud I am of you - of what you've achieved in your life. You're not ill educated, not any more. You educated yourself, and you know so much about so many things sometimes you just amaze me."

"Don't know much about nanamals though, do I?" he grinned. "You know one of these days one of us is going to have to teach that boy to speak properly."

"When this damn war is over and you come home to us, then you can do it," Dill smiled sadly. "Six years, Ty... has it really been six long years?"

"It has indeed," Ty agreed. "And for most of it my heart has been yours."

"Oh Ty," she whispered her eyes filling with tears," I miss you so much when you're gone."

He reached up a hand to stroke her face. "I miss you too, my little elf," he whispered, pulling her head down so that he could kiss her. "I miss you more than I can say."

"Stop it," Dill murmured softly. "I'm going to cry, and that would ruin today. It's been perfect so far. The children have enjoyed showing you the animals, and I've had such a good time seeing you enjoying yourself. If I cry now, that's everything ruined."

"You silly elf," Ty chuckled. "It would make my day complete, knowing I can make you cry just by telling you I miss you."

"Meanie," Dill smiled. She turned her head away, looking towards the boys. "Look," she told him. "Would you look at that!"

Turning his head, Ty began to laugh, and Dill gently took Izzy off his chest before he woke her. Hamish was sitting in the sand pit propped up by the spade he'd been digging with. It was the only thing stopping him from falling into the sand as he snored softly. Cameron was laid flat out with his thumb firmly in his mouth.

"I think we have two exhausted little guys," he chuckled, getting up and going to gently take Hamish in his arms, and returning with him and laying him on the blanket.

As he laid Cameron down next to him, both boys turned and wrapped their arms around each other. McQueen looked at Dill, a smile on his face. "Now that you have to get a picture of."

"I often find them snuggled up in bed together in the mornings," she told him as she rummaged for her camera. "It must be a twin thing."

"Or an invitro thing," Ty told her softly, sitting down next to her and hugging her to him. "On the ship taking us to Omicron we often slept like that. We had beds, but we put our blankets on the floor and huddled together for comfort. Kinda like those piglets, I guess. When we got there they forced us into our own beds. Anyone found in bed with someone else got beaten. They thought it was about sex, but it wasn't. We just needed to feel someone holding us. We were far too tired to think about sex."

"Is that why you suckle yourself to sleep?" Dill asked, nestling in his arms.

"Possibly, though I never did it until I met you. Amy would never have allowed it. When I think about it, there's an awful lot Amy never allowed," Ty sighed. "I'm so glad I have you now." He glanced around at the other families - mothers with their children, and an occasional father - then looked back at his three sleeping children. "I wish we weren't in such an open place, Dill. What I'd really like to do is make love to you, right here and right now."

"So if we were someplace else, you would, even though the children are lying right there?" Dill chuckled.

"Oh yeah," he grinned, kissing her neck. "We'd take it nice and slow... soft and gentle. And if the kids woke up, we'd tell 'em to go play while daddy made mommy feel real good."

"Traumatise them for life, more like!" Dill giggled.

"Cameron doesn't seem too traumatised after watching you suck me off," Ty said softly.

"Oh no. He just obsessed about how he could keep happy by playing with himself while you were away," she told him. "He became so obsessed that I had to tell him that playing with his penis was fine, but that he wasn't to do it anywhere but in his bedroom. To which he told me that I'd played with yours in the living room."

"What did you say?"

"What could I say? I told him the truth. I said that was because I was being very naughty, and that normally we played with each other in our bedroom."

McQueen chuckled. "So he doesn't know about the blanket in the garden then?"

"No, thank goodness. I dread to think what he'd say," she smiled.

McQueen lay back, pulling Dill down with him for a cuddle.

"Don't you start anything, Ty. We're already getting enough attention because of the state of your face. I don't want us banned from here because you got too frisky!" she giggled, as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.

"What do you take me for?" McQueen whispered gleefully, "an exhibitionist? Anyway, as I recall it was you who decided to do it in public last time."

"Ty!" Dill exclaimed, sitting herself back up. "You beast! We were hardly in public. And you practically begged me to!"

"We got caught, didn't we?" he grinned, remembering clearly the incident on the boat. "How much more public can you get?"

"Er… here, Ty. This is far more public. And there are children everywhere. That's why I don't want you even pretending to get frisky. Not everyone is quite so relaxed about it as we are, you know!" she told him.

"If anyone on the 'Toga heard you say that, they'd die of shock," Ty smiled. "They don't believe I know how to relax."

"Good job I took a picture of you laying there with Izzy then," she told him, smiling. "Shall I get it made up into a poster they can hang on the wall of the Tun, as proof?"

"Don't you dare" Ty smiled lazily. "Just come back down here and give me a cuddle."

"Sir, yes, sir," Dill giggled, lying herself back in his arms, her back against his chest.

"That's it, marine. Know your place," he smiled as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I know my place," she whispered. "Here in your arms, always."

After a few minutes, when he'd not said a word, Dill twisted her head around to look at him. "Ty? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Ty whispered as he buried his face in her neck. "I'm so happy, Dill, that I keep wondering when I'm going to wake up. Something terrible's going to happen, and I'm going to lose you. I know it."

"Stop that right now," Dill told him. "Nothing is going to happen. Look what we've been through, and we're still here. Now kiss me before the children wake up."

"Yes, Dill," Ty whispered, doing exactly as she asked.

Once the children had woken up, they did the things that had been promised, including a trailer ride for Hamish, during which the bugs that Isobel had eaten during the day made a reappearance all over her father as she sat on his lap waving at the animals they passed.

'Meet the Wolf' was a treat for Cameron, astounding McQueen when he saw just how friendly the wolf was. He'd been unsure whether to let any of his children near it. After all, everyone knew just how vicious and nasty wolves were, didn't they? Dill had smiled at him and pointed out that this particular wolf had been born in captivity and was hand raised, so it was as friendly as a domesticated dog. He still hadn't been happy, pointing out that dogs bite. But it was the disappointed faces of the little guys that finally made him give in and allow them to go to the front and stroke the wolf. Isobel remained firmly on Dill's lap while McQueen watched, prepared at any moment to go to the rescue of his boys.

After that came Isobel's trip to the rabbits, where, though he tried to hide it, McQueen enjoyed himself holding the rabbits for Isobel to stroke. Dill watched it all, smiling to herself at how he let his guard down and got just as excited as the children at the sight of a mother rabbit and her babies, especially when they hopped around his feet.

It was with a contented sigh that she sat back in her seat after having packed the remains of their lunch and Isobel's buggy in the back of the range rover, and strapped the children all safely into their car seats.

Looking across at him as he prepared to drive them home, Dill grinned. "I think it's time we changed the number plates. We're MCQ X5 now."

"The way you breed I'm surprised we're not MCQ X8 or 9!" Ty smiled back at her.

"You know you'd love it," she chuckled. "A horde of children fighting each other to get your attention."

"Sounds like the 58th," Ty laughed. "We have to make a stop on the way home, Dill. Is that alright?"

"You're driving," Dill told him. "I'm just going to sit here and nod off like the children."

Glancing at her a little while later, Ty saw she'd done exactly that.


	5. Chapter 5

McQueen's Ark 5.

A few days later Dill woke to the sound of men yelling, and an engine growling outside the house. Rolling onto her back, she reached for Ty, only to find the bed empty. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was barely nine a.m. What in the hell is going on, she wondered. Getting out of bed and pulling on her robe, she went to find out.

Dill found Ty standing outside in jeans and a sweatshirt. He was directing a pair of rather large looking men, laden down with wood, through the garden and into the clearing behind the house. Sitting on garden chairs, safely out of the way, and clutching beakers and toast, were all three of her children. They watched with wide eyes as daddy shouted at the men in his 'special' voice that he rarely used at home.

"What on earth is going on?" Dill asked, emerging from the house.

"The wood is being delivered," McQueen said, turning to grin at her.

"I can see that!" she rolled her eyes. "It's too early to be cryptic, Ty. Just tell me, please."

"Your mother agreed that I could turn that clearing into a paddock, so I needed the wood to fence it. The shed is coming later," Ty grinned.

Dill shook her head. "What are you talking about? What shed? What paddock? I need coffee," she muttered, before going back inside.

Moments later, after she'd thought about what he said, she was back. "Tyrus McQueen! Whatever silly idea you have rattling around in that beautiful head of yours had better not be what I think it is! We don't need a fenced paddock, Ty!"

"We will do tomorrow," he grinned, coming over to her. "Did you put the kettle on? I could do with another coffee."

"Tomorrow? Why tomorrow? You know full well that Valentine and Isabella are arriving tomorrow. You're supposed to be moving Izzy's cot into the boys' room today, and moving the spare bed from mother's to here. You don't have time to fence paddocks!"

"Oh, don't worry. I'll do that first, and then I'll see to the fences. It won't take me long. It's only securing a perimeter, after all," Ty told her, hugging her to him, his eyes shining bright with excitement.

"Please tell me this has nothing to do with piglets," Dill whispered.

"Do you want the truth, or do you want me to lie to you?" he asked, grinning wickedly.

"Oh, Ty! How could you? I told you I'd said no. I told you to say no. How could you do this to me!" She pulled out of his arms angrily and stormed back into the house.

"Er… Mr. McQueen? Will you be wanting all of this wood down there?" one of the deliverymen asked.

He turned back to him. "Yes, all of it, as fast as you can, please. I need to get working on this as soon as possible."

With a nod the man walked away, collecting another pile of wood to carry down to the clearing.

"Daddy?" came a little voice.

Ty turned to the children. "Yes, Hamish?"

"Mummy's not happy."

"She's cross!" Cameron announced, grinning as Isobel added her two cents worth.

"Cross, cross!" she crowed over and over.

"Stay there guys. Don't get under these men's feet. And that's an order, marines!" he added, knowing it would make the boys giggle. "I'm just going to speak to mommy."

Dill was pouring the hot water into the coffee pot. "Stay away from me," she warned him. "I'm really peed about this, Ty. I made it quite clear to you and the children that we were not getting a piglet. You've ridden rough shod over that decision, and in two weeks you won't be here to deal with it!" She glared at him. "Who's going to be the one that has to feed it? Clean it's shed out? Call the damn vet in when it gets ill? What if it dies? Did you think of that? How the hell am I supposed to deal with a pig that's almost as big as I am?"

"It's not just a pig," he admitted sheepishly. "There's a goat for Hamish too, and a rabbit for Izzy."

Dill stared at him. "Get out of my kitchen right now, Tyrus McQueen!" she yelled, "before I throw this bloody coffee at you!"

Ty backed out hurriedly as she picked the pot up ready to throw.

Several hours later, despite the fact that he'd dutifully helped her move Izzy's cot from her room into the boys' room, and with her and her mother's help had installed a double bed in there ready for their guests, Dill was still not speaking to Ty.

Moira raised her eyebrows as Dill left the room to check on the children. "She's not happy, T.C. Not happy at all. I take it your surprise didn't go down too well."

"That's an understatement," he sighed, sitting in the edge of the bed. "She's really angry with me, and she hasn't spoken a word to me since she found out."

"Oh, I'm sure you can find a way to wheedle yourself back into her affections," Moira chuckled.

"I just wanted to do something special for the children," he told her.

"You should have asked her first," Moira smiled. "You're going to be in her bad books for a while yet. All I can say, my dear, is that paddock had better look fantastic when you finish."

"I've never built a paddock before," he admitted with a grin. "But it can't be hard, can it?"

"Just what experience of carpentry do you have, T.C.?" Moira asked, not sure that she wanted to know.

"Well, actually, none," he grinned. "But hey, I'm a marine. We never back down from a challenge!"

Moira stared at him, open mouthed. "You intend fencing a paddock to make it pig and goat proof, and get that enormous hut put up today? By yourself?"

Ty nodded. "It can't be that difficult. The shed comes in pieces, you know... floor, walls and roof... how hard can it be?"

"Oh my gods. You really are a stupid tank, aren't you?" she laughed. "I'll see if Rory and Malcolm can come over and help you later. That is, if Dylan hasn't brained you first. If I were you, I wouldn't eat any lunch today."

"Why?" he asked, puzzled.

"Just in case she laces it with rat poison!" Moira laughed. "I'm off. I am not getting involved in this one."

Ty sat on the bed staring after her, before bracing himself. He went to find Dill. She was in the kitchen, preparing lunch. He came up behind her, and resting his chin on her shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Anything I can do?" he asked.

"Go away," she told him, trying to shake him off.

"Come on, Dill. I've said I'm sorry. What more do you want?" he pleaded.

"I want you to go out there and tell those children that you're sorry, but you made a mistake. No piglets or goats will be coming to live here," she told him.

"How can I do that?" Ty whispered gently, kissing her neck. "It'd break their little hearts."

"How could you do this to me, you bloody sod!" Dill cried, turning in his arms. "This isn't just coming in and spoiling them, Ty. This is far worse than that. Don't you understand?"

"No," he told her honestly, "I don't."

"Every time we go to that place, Cameron begs for a piglet, and I mean begs. I've had to carry him kicking and screaming to the car before now. I have always said no, always..." she told him angrily. "Then along comes daddy and hey presto! Cameron gets his piglet. From now on he's going to believe that no matter what I say, daddy will let him have it. And you know what he's like. he'll come right out and say it to me. for the next god knows how long I'm going to get 'daddy will let me' or 'daddy will buy it for me'. You've made my life that much harder." Dill looked at him, tears in her eyes. "And it's not like you'll be here to help look after it, is it? If I ask Malcolm to help me, you'll get jealous, and I can't manage a great enormous pig by myself!"

Ty held her close and tried not to laugh. "Is that what this is about? The fact that it'll grow to a great big hairy beast? It'll be a few years before that'll happen, my lovely little elf," he told her. "And who knows, maybe the war will be ended and I'll be under your feet everyday, pig farming!"

"Oh bugger the pig, Ty!" Dill cried

"I'd rather not," he grinned.

"Oh you!" She slapped his arm. "I'm more concerned about the effect this'll have on Cameron, you bloody swine!"

"See? It is about the pig!" Ty laughed, jumping back as she reached to slap at him again. "I can't tell them no now, Dill. And if I'm honest, I don't want to. Seeing their little faces light up when I told them, it gave me such a rush. Please don't make me tell them no," he pleaded.

Seeing the look on his face, so similar to the pleading look she got so often from the boys, Dill sighed. "I'm telling you, McQueen, if you ever do this to me again, you'll wish you'd never been born!"

"I won't, I promise," he told her, grabbing her and kissing her. "And I wasn't born. I was decanted."

"Like a lovely, fine wine," Dill mumbled, as he kissed her again. "I think that later, once the children are in bed for the night, you, Colonel, can show me just how sorry you are."

"Yes, ma'am," Ty whispered. "It would be this Colonel's utmost pleasure to show you exactly how sorry he is."

"And it would be this wife's pleasure to allow you to," she breathed into his ear. "Now make yourself useful and slice those tomatoes."

"Yes, ma'am," he laughed, giving her one final kiss before reaching for a knife.

Later that afternoon Dill strolled down to the clearing, or paddock, as she supposed she'd better start thinking of it, to see how Ty was getting on. From the sounds of hammering she expected to see at least one side fenced. What she found was two little boys hammering nails into odd bits of wood while their father danced around holding his hand.

Hamish looked up as he heard her approaching. "Poor daddy," he told her, shaking his head. "He hits his fingers, not the nail."

"Doesn't look like much fencing done yet, Ty," Dill said, looking about her. "You do realise, don't you, that it may be summer, but it doesn't stay light all night long. There is no way you'll finish this today."

"Don't rub it in," he griped, clutching his hand to his chest.

"Let me see," she smiled, taking his hand and kissing it. "My poor baby. You're not cut out for this, are you?"

"No," he admitted. "I never even made pit props in the mines." Ty looked about him. "Now if all it took was a few tarps and some rope, I'd have been finished by now."

"Shall I call up reinforcements?" Dill asked, laughing at the indignant look on his face. "My sweet man, you forget that most of us living here actually helped to build each others' homes. Need a new roof? I'm your girl. Iona is damn good at electrical wiring, and mother is a dab hand at plastering. There are plenty of others who, if I asked nicely, would come and help you. We could make a party of it. I'll ring round and see who's free to help. Mother can go into town for me and get some goodies, and we'll have a barbeque for everyone."

"I can do it, Dill," Ty snapped.

"Then I'll just sit here with the boys and watch as you struggle, shall I? Of course it'll be a pleasure for me to do that, especially since you've stripped down to your tank top already. Maybe if I wolf whistle you'll take that off too, and I can admire the way you glisten and gleam as the sweat runs over your muscular, manly body," Dill said in a low, sultry voice. "And if you get really hot, you might slip those jeans off and work in your boxers. Now that would be something I'd pay to see," she winked. "In fact, you carry on while I go get my camera. I'm beginning to drool with anticipation. Oh, I could have my own 'Colonel McQueen as you've never seen him before' sexy photo album. If I bought you a tool belt, would you pose for me, Ty?"

"Stop it, Dill," Ty said. "Not in front of the children."

"You get uncomfortable if I talk about you like that, don't you?" she chuckled, running her hand up his arm to his shoulder. "Don't you like me telling you how sexy I find you?"

"I don't like you doing it in public, Dill," he told her. "There are some things that should be strictly private."

Dill laughed. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but you have such a gorgeous body, how can I resist?" She kissed him gently on the lips. "Now, shall I call up the cavalry?"

McQueen looked around at the pieces of the pig/goat house soon to be, and the pile of wood for the fencing. With a sigh, he turned back to her. "I guess so."

"Okay then, I'll go make a few calls. I won't be long, my lover. Don't let the boys hurt themselves with those hammers," she smiled, kissing Ty again, and squeezing his behind before she left.

McQueen turned back to the huge pile of wood, and with a grimace, picked up his hammer. He was going to beat this fence into submission if it killed him!

By the time Dill arrived back Ty was indeed gleaming, his skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He drank down the cold beer she brought him as though he were dying of thirst. The boys looked up from their hammering as she handed them beakers of juice and a biscuit each.

"Mother's gone into Inverness to get supplies. She's taken Izzy with her. And there's about a dozen folk on their way over, most of whom are looking forward to meeting you," Dill grinned. "I must say talking to them made me realise that I've been appallingly rude. Most people here have never even met you. So look on this as a way of getting to know our neighbours. But be warned, you may well get a few tank remarks." She hugged him close, inhaling deeply. "God, I love the way you smell, all sweaty and manly. That photo album... I don't suppose you'd pose for me in your dress blues, would you?"

"You have a picture of me in my dress blues," Ty told her.

"Well, I was thinking... in your dress blues. But without the jacket or the pants. Just a strategically placed cover," she giggled, jumping away from him as he realised what she meant.

"Dill!" Ty laughed. "Iona was right - you really are a monster."

"But you love me anyway!" she chuckled, running as he chased after her.

Ty caught her as she ran into the fir trees near the house. "Jeez, Dill, you're a fast little thing, aren't you?" he panted as he pulled her to him for a kiss.

"You're not so slow yourself," she grinned. "And oh, look! A little more sweaty than you were before." Dill bent her head to lick at his collarbone, and on up his throat, eventually licking the navel on the back of his neck. "You taste absolutely heavenly," she whispered. "Would you though, my lover?"

"Would I what?" Ty whispered hoarsely, bending his head and offering her his navel again. His body was on fire from the sensations she created.

"Pose for me." Dill's tongue dipped inside his navel, making him shiver in her arms as she wrapped them around him.

"Keep that up and I'll do anything you want," Ty groaned. She did it again. "I'll strip naked here and now, if that's what you want, but please don't stop," he pleaded, as her tongue left his neck and she released him from her arms.

"I have to, my lover," she whispered in his ear. "We have company."

Looking up, Ty suppressed a groan at the sight of a dozen men and women strolling into the paddock. The boys jumped up to say hello to people they obviously knew.

"Come on, my lover," Dill smiled, taking his hand. "Let's go and say hello. And if you're not too tired after all this hard manly work, I'll give you a repeat performance after the children have gone to bed."

Leading him by the hand, Dill introduced McQueen to her friends and neighbours, explaining how the idea of the paddock had come about. The boys were excitedly telling everyone about getting a piglet and a goat, and McQueen was grateful that his wife didn't mention his failure to get the fencing actually started. She told them only that they'd been so busy preparing for their guests arrival that they didn't have enough time to get it done by themselves.

When Dill's mother arrived with the food for the barbeque, and a vast amount of drink, they were well under way. Ty busily helped with getting the goat house up, while Dill was marking out the area for the paddock fencing. The boys ran around delivering hammers, nails and screwdrivers to whoever called for them. And Izzy, in her own inimitable style, wandered around eating whatever wasn't snatched out of her hands in time.

A large barbeque made from an old oil drum appeared from nowhere, and before long the smell of food began to make everyone's stomachs growl. Moira had excelled herself; a long table appeared, covered with salads, bread and cheese as well as the steaks, chicken and sausages from the barbeque. Several more women appeared carrying desserts and cakes as the evening progressed, causing Dill, in a moment of general quiet, to remark that it was like the barn raising scene from 'that old movie Witness'. Of course that sparked much laughter, as they all argued over whether or not they really were Scotland's answer to the Amish, as had been suggested in the past.

Finally, as the night crept up on them, Dill took the children inside. By the time she'd given them their evening bath and tucked them into bed, McQueen was saying thank you's and good byes to the neighbours he'd finally met. All of them were tired but happy to have achieved their goal; the paddock was finished. The goat house stood proudly in a corner. All it needed was the inhabitants to arrive.

Walking up behind him, Dill wrapped her arms around Ty's waist and smilingly said goodnight to the last of the stragglers. "Come on, marine," she whispered. "I have plans for you."

"No, Dill," he told her. "I need to show you that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this to you, and I should have known I couldn't do it myself. This Colonel needs to make amends to his wife."

"Well, this wife just wants to get her hands on the beautiful, sweaty, manly marine in her arms. So come on, and let's go to bed."

"I need a shower," Ty said, as Dill pulled him along by the waistband of his jeans.

"One thing you most certainly do not need is a shower" she murmured.

"But I'm all sweaty and horrible!" he laughed.

"No, you're sweaty and sexy," Dill growled. "Now get in here, marine, and let's work that sweat up again." She pulled him into their bedroom and closed the door. "You want to make amends, do you, marine?" she asked.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," Ty whispered, grinning.

"Then strip down to your boxers and give me twenty," Dill told him firmly.

With a quick smirk he did as he was told, lifting his head to ask, "Only twenty?"

"Quiet, marine," she told him, trying not to laugh as she rested one foot on his behind and pushed him down. "Otherwise I'll have to sit on you while you do them."

"Oh God, yes," Ty moaned softly.

"I heard that," Dill chuckled. "You are a very bad marine, and I think perhaps you need to work a little harder to get that sweat up. How about some sit ups?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," her husband smiled, sitting up and beginning to do them.

"Did I say move?" she asked him, crouching down by his side.

"No, ma'am," Ty whispered, as Dill's hands began to move slowly over his chest and back.

"Feels a little moist to me," she whispered, her breath hot on his navel, making him twitch, "but nowhere near enough. Let's see how you look after some sit ups." Dill held him still in her arms for a moment. "Or even better, a jog around the paddock. Or I can think of a better, more fun way for both of us."

Ty looked into her eyes, filled with lust and desire for him. "Whatever you want," he whispered.

She swatted him on the back. "You forgot the ma'am, marine. Oh, you are so bad. You're going to have to work very hard to please me."

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," Ty whispered, groaning as her hand slipped inside his boxers, stroking his hard cock.

"On the bed, marine," Dill whispered in his ear.

Doing as he was told, he shivered as he felt her tongue lave his navel. "Oh, Dill," he moaned softly. "I don't know what you want from me."

"I should have thought that was obvious," she whispered. "I want you to make love to me, Ty. I want to feel you getting all hot and sweaty with me."

Ty rolled over and took Dill in his arms. "Hot and sweaty, you say?"

"Oh yes, definitely," she grinned.

"Okay then," he groaned, pushing her onto her back and pushing himself inside her.

He started slowly, allowing her the chance to enjoy the feeling of him sliding in and out of her. He withdrew almost out of her with each stroke, smiling as she gripped his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist to stop him pulling out too far.

He began to speed up, his thrusts coming fast and furious as she urged him on. "Come on, flyboy. Nought to fifty in three seconds is not bad at all," Dill chuckled, slapping him on the behind. "I know you can do better though."

"Yes ma'am," Ty moaned, his body pounding into her for all he was worth.

Soon he was lost, trapped inside the pace he'd set, unable to do little more than hold on to her as his body wildly thrust inside her, making her cry out as her orgasm approached. He cried out himself as he felt her limbs tighten around his body when she climaxed, and his own body picked him up and threw him over the edge after her.

Collapsing on top of her, Ty struggled to breathe. Dill's hands ran up and down his body, massaging him, kneading his buttocks and his shoulders, then dancing lightly along his sides, making him squirm as she gently tickled him.

"Oh Dill," he groaned. "What are you trying to do, kill me?"

"You're all nicely sweaty now," she giggled. "Roll over and let me taste you."

Ty dutifully rolled onto his back, his eyes shining with amusement as she climbed on top of him and began to massage his shoulders, her hands firmly kneading and squeezing as she bent her neck to lick at his nipples.

"Are you a tired boy?" Dill asked, in a tone of voice very much like she spoke to the children.

"No," he told her, his voice low and husky, as he wriggled trying to position her so that she was sitting over his already hardening cock. "But I'm a tired man."

Dill lifted her head from his nipples. "Oh, I see. It's like that, is it? Mutiny in the ranks."

"Hell, yes," he chuckled. "I'm having ideas right at this moment that would shock most boys."

"Well, come on then, flyboy. Let's see 'em," she said softly.

Ty pulled her off of him and knelt behind her, holding her upright against him. He nuzzled and kissed at Dill's throat and neck as his free hand slid down her body to her wet centre, sliding inside her and gently stroking her. Once she was writhing against him, pushing herself onto his hand, he removed his fingers and pushed her forwards onto her hands and knees. Holding onto her hips, Ty thrust into Dill's hot, wet depths in one smooth stroke. For a second he knelt, buried completely inside her, before he began to move, slowly at first, but gradually speeding up as her hips ground backwards to meet each thrust of his. He continued to increase his thrusts as her hand reached around to massage his testicles, causing him to gasp out loud as she rolled them in her hand squeezing gently, but firmly.

"No Dill," Ty whispered, batting her hand away. "You can play afterwards. Right now I just want you to enjoy it."

"Oh, I am, flyboy," Dill gasped as he thrust forcefully into her. "I think I like it like this best of all."

"I see," Ty groaned, pushing himself harder. "Don't wanna look at me, huh?"

"Oh, my lover," she grinned, turning her head to look at him. "You know that's not so… oh!" she cried out, as he thrust even harder, his knuckles white where he gripped her hips. "It's just that this way, I get to feel so much more of you."

"Be quiet woman," he groaned. "Let me concentrate."

"Sir, yes, sir," Dill whispered.

"That's more like it," Ty chuckled. "Know your place, woman."

"Oh, I do," Dill giggled. "Under you! So come on, I want to see that handsome face when you come. I want to see you going all googly." She flung herself forward so that he slid out of her, and rolling over, pulled him to her. "I want to be able to kiss you."

Grinning, Ty bent to kiss her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as he thrust himself inside her. Soon she was urging him on, her hands gripping his shoulders as he gripped hers, kissing his face and neck as he nuzzled against her. Finally, she felt his body tensing, the shudders running through him and into her, bringing her climax ever closer. She lifted his head from her shoulder and watched his face.

"Open your eyes, Ty. Let me see you come."

Opening his eyes, Ty stared at her, his eyes unfocussed as his body took over for the final thrusts. His mouth opened and a tiny gasp emerged as he fought not to drop his head onto her breast.

"My God, you're beautiful," Dill whispered, just before her climax took her and her body shuddered underneath him, bringing his own closer.

Pulling his head down again, she ran her tongue over his navel, dipping it into the small dimple. Ty's body jerked and he let out a strangled cry, clutching at her as he finally came, clinging to her as though she were a life raft.

Dill rolled Ty onto his back and began kissing and licking her way down his body, working her way to his softened cock. Taking him into her mouth, she worked him hard, swirling her tongue around the sensitive tip, fucking the slit, using hard sucks and long languorous strokes of her tongue to get him nice and hard again. Grinning, she slid herself down his length and began to ride him hard.

"Oh God, Dill!" Ty cried. "You're trying to kill me."

"But what a way to go," she chuckled, licking at his nipples, nipping them to hardness as she rode him furiously.

Ty's hands came up to hold Dill's hips as he bucked his own hips upwards, desperately striving for relief. They came, him kneading her breasts, moaning incoherently, as she slammed herself down on him. Dill screamed out with the force of her orgasm, before collapsing on top of him.

Ty pulled her down and into his arms, kissing her softly before pulling the sheet over them and finally going to sleep. Dill, wrapped in his arms, laid her head on his chest as Ty stroked her hair.

The following morning Ty woke to the sounds of Dill showering, and a familiar body snuggled up against him. "Hello, boy," he whispered, in case Cameron was asleep.

"Hello daddy," came the soft reply.

"What're you doing in my bed?" Ty asked, rolling over to hug the little boy.

"You woke me up," Cameron told him, his eyes full of with love for his daddy.

"I woke you up?" he asked, thinking that he and Dill were really going to have to keep the volume down in future.

"Uh huh," the little boy told him. "You were happy. Mummy was making you happy I think, and you woke me up."

Ty lay there thinking about what Cameron had said, horror filling his mind at the fact that the boy was able to pick up on he and Dill making love.

"Its okay, daddy, you don't need to be upset," Cameron smiled, reaching out to touch his face. "I like it when you're happy. It makes me happy too." He frowned. "I don't like it when you're sad. Sometimes that scares me and makes me cry. But when you're happy with mummy, that's the best."

"Cameron," Ty asked, "how do you know what I'm feeling?"

"I just do," Cameron told him, shrugging.

"Can you tell how I'm feeling when I'm not here?"

"Yes, daddy," the little boy whispered, beginning to worry that his daddy was going to tell him off.

"Can you tell all the time?"

"No, daddy."

"When can you tell?"

"I don't know!" Cameron's eyes filled with tears and he began to cry.

McQueen pulled the little boy closer. "Its okay, Cameron. You don't need to cry. I'm not cross with you." He kissed his son's forehead gently. "But you should know that." Ty smiled, giving the boy a tickle. "I love you, little guy, and nothing will ever stop that. Now come on - no more tears. We have to get up and get dressed. We have people coming to visit, not to mention piglets coming to live!"

"I love you too daddy," Cameron whispered, clinging to him. "Can I have a shower with you?"

"Of course you can, if that naughty mommy hasn't used up all the water."

"You love mummy, don't you?" Cameron smiled.

"Oh, yes. I love mommy more than she knows. More than anyone knows." Ty looked at Cameron thoughtfully. "Except maybe you."

Cameron giggled. "You loves us all."

"Oh, yes, I sure do. My little guys and my sweet bug-eating dumpling, and that naughty, wicked mommy!" Ty laughed.

"Who's a naughty, wicked mummy?" Dill asked, coming in from the bathroom.

"You are!" Ty and Cameron chorused together.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer:  
The characters and situations of the TV program "SPACE: Above and Beyond" are the creations of Glen Morgan and James Wong, Fox Broadcasting and Hard Eight Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. Dylan Mackenzie belongs to me.

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It was raining. The animals had arrived and been settled into their new home, and Ty had finally enticed the muddy children back into the house by telling them that the new piglet and his goat friend needed a nap. The boys had been reluctant to leave them, but when their father said that he would get the train set out for them, they had hurried home quickly, shedding their waterproofs and wellingtons at the backdoor before rushing inside to find the train set for him to assemble. Ty followed a minute or two later, having had to forcibly remove the rabbit from Izzy's arms before he could stow it safely in the run that had been delivered with it.

Ty'd turned around from putting the rabbit back to see Izzy sitting on the wet and muddy ground, crying her eyes out. Picking her up, he'd cuddled her tight as she'd sobbed into his neck. She wanted her rabbit back. Or as Izzy put it, "Wabbit!"

Carrying her back to the house, he'd managed to soothe her with promises of a biscuit, grinning to himself that obviously a biscuit rated higher than a rabbit in Izzy's book. Shedding his own boots at the door, he stripped Izzy out of her wet and muddy overalls, and with her snug in his arms, went to find her something clean to wear.

"Daddy, we got the train ready!" Cameron yelled, as he walked past the door to the living room.

"Okay, guys. I need to get Izzy some pants - she sat in the mud." Ty stepped back to look. "Uh, boys, I think we should play with it in your bedroom. Mommy won't be happy if we muss up in there."

"You can make her happy," Cameron grinned at him.

"Yeah, you can… kiss her!" Hamish giggled.

"Guys, if we muss up after she's tidied, even kissing her won't help us," their dad grinned back at them. "Come on now - bring it in your bedroom."

He chuckled as he heard his sons muttering together as they picked up the box and its accompanying bits and followed him. In their room he stopped and stared. With Izzy's cot in there, too, there really wasn't very much room for the train track. Ty pondered on it as he found Izzy some clean clothes and dressed her.

"Okay, boys, there's no room in here. We'll put it up in mine and mommy's bedroom. That's got lots of space for a train track."

By the time Dill arrived home from Inverness, where she'd decided she needed to do a little last minute shopping before their guests arrived, the train track ran around the bedroom, under the bed, into their bathroom and out again, and balanced precariously as it went over the small sofa.

Ty was sat cross-legged, Izzy in his lap, masterminding what looked to Dill to be an impending railroad crash while Izzy clapped excitedly, yelling, "More, more!"

"Go on, daddy!" Hamish yelled at him, whilst jumping up and down on the bed.

Cameron, however, was laying on his stomach, his chin in his hands and his feet waving in the air. "Daddy, you're going to kill all those tiny people," he said seriously. "Should McQueen's kill people, daddy?" He looked up at Ty, his eyes questioning.

"Good grief!" came Dill's voice from the doorway. "I expect you guys will want this left up, won't you? I suppose I should be grateful you didn't put it up in the living room."

"Daddy said no," Hamish told her, his bouncing stopping immediately when he saw her.

"Good daddy," she smiled, going over to Ty and kissing him on the top of his head. "However…."

"Okay, what'd I do wrong this time?" he asked.

"You didn't do anything wrong, my lover. But you know that odd looking wooden thing by the back door? The thing that's just a dozen bits of wood sticking up?" she chuckled.

"Yes," Ty said, wondering what exactly this was about.

"That's for the wellies. You take them off and put them on there. It keeps the rain out," Dill told him.

"And now our boots are full of water," he groaned, realising what she meant.

"That about sums it up," Dill laughed. "Never mind. They'll dry. I'll bring them in and put them by the Aga. I take it from the pile of dripping waterproofs that the creatures arrived while I was out?"

"Oh yes, mummy!" Cameron cried, standing and almost jumping for joy. "Humphrey is beautiful, mummy. Come and see her!"

"Humphrey?" Dill asked, "You called your piglet Humphrey?"

She stared at Ty, who simply shrugged his shoulders. "Don't ask me. I have no idea where the name came from. Tell her your goat's name, Hamish." He grinned at Dill. "This'll kill you."

Hamish grinned at her. "Gussie," he announced, "Gussie the goat!"

"Dare I ask what Izzy called her rabbit? Or is it better that I don't know?" Dill smiled.

"Daddy!" Izzy chuckled.

"Yes, darling, I know you've got your daddy. But what did you call your rabbit?" Dill smiled at the toddler still snuggled in Ty's lap.

Both boys began to giggle and McQueen nodded. "She called it Daddy," he told her. "Maybe because it's white."

Dill started to laugh. Sitting down on the bed, she laughed until she cried, much to the delight of the boys, though she frightened Izzy, who clung to Ty, her little face terrified.

"You're scaring Izzy," Ty told her, stroking Izzy's hair to soothe her. "For God's sake, Dill, stop it. It wasn't that funny!"

"Oh, it is," she laughed. "I have three dratted animals I didn't want, and now they're called ridiculous names!" Dill sat up and wiped at her face. "I'm sorry, boys, but those are silly names. Lord knows what the vet will think when he comes over."

"Why is the vet coming?" Ty asked, rocking Izzy in his arms.

"He's coming over to check them out and find out if they're boys or girls, and also to give them any shots they might need," she told him.

"But mummy, Humphrey is a girl," Cameron told her earnestly. "She has lots of nipples that daddy says are for sucking on."

Dill eyed McQueen. "Oh yes, daddy would know all about that," she smirked.

She chuckled again as Ty blushed to the roots of his hair. He was saved only by the sound of the doorbell.

"Holy hell! That's Valentine and Isabella!" Dill cried. "Everyone else comes round the back. Okay, guys - action stations. Best behaviour, boys. And you," she turned to Ty, "don't let Izzy eat any bugs."

"No, ma'am," he grinned, standing up, a sleepy Izzy in his arms. "Come on, marines - let's go meet daddy's friends."

"Sir, yes, sir!" both boys chorused, grinning.

"Now if you could just get them saluting," Dill laughed. She didn't see the grin Ty gave the boys as she left to answer the door.

By the time she'd hustled their guests into the house and out of the rain, Ty and the boys were lined up in the hallway to say hello.

"Now remember boys, Isabella can't hear you, so the sign, just like daddy showed you," he whispered.

"Okay daddy," Cameron said, smiling.

"Don't wanna!" Hamish told him.

Moving Izzy so she lay with her head resting on his shoulder, Ty crouched down and whispered, "Please, Hamish, do it for daddy."

"No," Hamish cried. "Don't wanna!"

"Hamish, please," he pleaded.

At which point Hamish threw himself onto the floor at Valentine's feet and began to scream, while Cameron smiled shyly and gave the mini salute that was hello in sign language.

"Well, I've never had that effect before," Valentine smiled. "Which young man is this?"

McQueen turned, smiling. "I'm afraid it's Hamish. He didn't want to say hello."

"So you must be Cameron." Valentine crouched down and offered him his hand to shake. "Very nice to meet you, young man. That was a very nice hello."

Cameron shook the hand that was extended and smiled shyly up at Valentine. "Daddy showed me how," he whispered.

Dill frowned at Hamish. "Ty, give me Izzy and you see to Hamish. We'll go into the living room and take his audience away."

McQueen passed the sleepy child to Dill and stood frowning over Hamish as the others left them alone in the hallway. "Okay, young man, that is enough. Get up off the floor now and stop this behaviour!"

Hamish ignored him, pausing only in his screaming to draw breath.

"I'm going to count to three, Hamish, and then I'm going to get really cross. One…" Hamish ignored him. "Two…." The young boy began to crawl away. "Three!" McQueen bent down and picked his son up, flinging him over his shoulder as he lashed out with his feet. "I am not putting up with this, young man! I know mommy doesn't smack you, but you are coming close to having a smack from daddy! Stop kicking me, and if you bite me again I _will_ bite you back!"

McQueen carried the tear-streaked boy into his bedroom and dropped him onto his bed. "You had better stay here until you can behave yourself. I don't want you leaving this room until you are ready to come and say sorry. Do you hear me, marine?" he fairly yelled at the small boy cowering on the bed.

Hamish nodded, terrified of this strange shouting man where his daddy used to be.

McQueen turned on his heel and left the room, pulling the door closed behind him and taking a deep breath. Dill was standing in the hallway. "What the hell was that? We heard every word you yelled at him. He's three years old, Ty. Do you want to traumatise him for life? Get your arse back in there and say sorry for screaming at him. He's not one of your marines!"

"I'll apologise when he comes out, but I'm not going back in there now," he told her, heading into the living room to greet Valentine and Isabella properly.

Shaking her head, Dill followed him, knowing he was right, but still not happy about it.

Later that evening, their guests safely ensconced in Izzy's room for the night, Dill and Ty retired to bed themselves.

Coming out of the shower McQueen found Dill tucked up under the covers. "Are you asleep there, Dill?" he asked, a little disappointed.

"No, my lover. Just snuggling until I had you to snuggle with," she smiled, her face appearing from under the duvet.

"Are you cold? Want me to turn on the heating?"

"No, just get your hot self into bed with me," Dill laughed, throwing back the duvet for him as he shed his towel and slid in with her. "Oh, that's so much better," she giggled, wrapping herself around him. "My own personal hot water bottle."

"Hell, Dill, your feet are freezing!" he cried. "Get'em off me!"

She giggled more, tickling him with her cold feet. "Oh, where's that big, brave marine when you need him? Afraid of my tiny, little cold feet? You big baby."

"If you don't stop it, I swear I'll tickle you," Ty laughed. "I'll go for those tiny, little feet first." He grabbed for her feet under the covers.

"I don't know about your twisted sense of anatomy, Ty, but that is not my feet!" Dill gasped.

"Whoa there!" he squawked, as her hand grabbed at him. "That's fighting dirty, Dill."

"Is it below the belt?" she giggled.

"That is so corny I can't bring myself to comment on it," Ty groaned. "Now stop it and go to sleep, you bad, bad woman."

"You want to go to sleep? Are you sure? Doesn't feel like that to me," Dill snickered.

"Dylan, stop it!" he squeaked as she squeezed him suddenly. "I'm serious, Dill, please. I want to know what you're going to do with Isabella tomorrow when we go fishing for the day."

"Oh, I thought a little shopping with Izzy. The boys can go with you." Dill saw the look on his face. "Okay, the boys can go play with a friend, or go to mother for the afternoon. Then I thought maybe we could cook whatever lovely fishes you bring us. Bella is keen to learn how to cook trout, so please, a few trout would be nice if you can manage it."

"We'll do our best," Ty smiled. "Watching the pair of you over dinner this evening was fascinating. You don't sign, but you both knew what you were talking about."

"That's girls for you," she chuckled. "When the talk turns to the length of your rod, and it turns out to be a fishing rod, well, we just tune you out."

"Well, if you don't know the length of my rod by now, you never will," he smirked.

"I'm ignoring that rude comment," Dill grinned. "I think Hamish is in love. Did you see the way he sat next to Bella all afternoon, and showed her his action man?"

"I did indeed. Would that have worked with you, Dill, if I'd asked you to come look at my action man? Would you have been impressed?" Ty chortled.

"Oh, is that what you call it now?" she giggled, squeezing him again. "Feels like your rod's pretty big. Wanna go fishing?"

"Oh, yes," her husband whispered, pulling her down under the covers with him.

They were busily engaged, and giggling away, as a voice spoke. "Daddy?"

McQueen's head popped up from under the duvet, his face flushed. "Hamish?"

"Can I get in bed with you and mummy?"

McQueen looked down at Dill underneath him. "What the hell do I say?" he whispered.

She sighed. "Tell him to go get back in his own bed and you'll come tuck him in in a minute."

Ty bent his head and kissed her. "See, that's why I married you. You know how to deal with kids." He looked up at Hamish. "Go back to bed, little guy. I'll come tuck you up in a minute."

"Cameron's in my bed," he whispered, coming up to the bed.

"Then get in Cameron's bed, sweetie," Dill told him. "Mummy and daddy are a bit busy at the moment."

"Cameron's bed is wet," Hamish said. "He wee'd in it."

"Then get back into your bed with Cameron," McQueen told him, groaning as he could feel Dill shifting under him.

"My beds wet. Cameron's wee'd in it," the little boy told him.

"This is not fair," Ty whispered to Dill as she pushed him off her.

"No, my lover, but that's kids for you. Best contraceptive in the world!" She threw back the covers. "In you get, sweetie. No weeing in this bed or I'll get cross, okay?"

"Yes, mummy," Hamish smiled, settling himself between his parents.

"Oh God, Dill," McQueen groaned.

"Wait for him to go to sleep, and we'll nip into the living room," she whispered.

"Oh, the intelligence of the woman!" McQueen chuckled.

"Don't push it, flyboy!" Dill giggled.

"No ma'am," Ty said solemnly.

Half an hour later found them wrapping themselves in spare sheets and running into the living room. Which was where Valentine found them next morning, curled around each other on the floor in front of the now cold log fire.

Dill was in the kitchen making breakfast for Bella, Valentine and the boys when Ty arrived, Izzy running in front of him.

"Hello, girlie," Valentine smiled at her. "Where've you been, little one?"

"Spooge, daddy," Izzy told him, pointing at Ty. "Toast?"

"Oh, yes. Toast for my spoogey girl," Ty grinned, lifting her into her highchair. "Anything else, Dill?" he asked warily, sniffing.

"Oh, don't panic," she chuckled. "He gets this fear in his eyes at the thought I'll make him eat porridge," she smiled at Bella.

"Porridge?" Valentine asked as Bella prodded him, signing furiously.

"Ty calls it oatmeal, I believe, but we Scots like it rougher," Dill smiled.

"Yeah, and the boys call it baby sick," Ty grinned, sitting down.

"Just sit your sexy self down and eat these eggs," Dill told him. "Bacon?"

"Yes, please. I don't suppose you did sausage too, did you?" he asked hopefully. "I'm starved."

"Tomatoes? Mushrooms?" she smiled, as she put a full plate down in front of him.

"Dill, you're a mind reader!" Ty sighed contentedly. "See what I mean about she's determined to feed me up?"

"And yet you clear your plate every time, mister, so don't you blame me if you can't do your usual run," Dill smiled, kissing the top of his head as he tucked in hungrily.

Cameron giggled. "Kissing," he whispered.

"You want a kiss too?" Dill teased him.

"Ugh no, mummy!" he cried, putting up his arm to fend her off.

"No kisses from mummy?" she chuckled. "Oh well, I'll just have to give your kisses to daddy and Hamish and Izzy."

"Get down, please, mummy?" Hamish asked.

"Yes, darling, you can get down. You'll need a bath though. And so will you, Cameron," Dill told them both.

"Yes, mummy," Cameron sighed. "Can I get down too, please?"

"Yes. Off you go and play for a while."

Both boys headed off to play with the train set.

"So," Valentine asked, "do you two often sleep in the living room?"

"Er, no," Ty grinned sheepishly. "We had Hamish in bed with us. His timing was... not good."

"Well, I guess that's what you have to put up with when you have children," Valentine chuckled.

"Amongst other things," Dill laughed. "Don't get me wrong. Our children are lovely kids most of the time, but they do have their moments."

"Oh yes," Ty sighed, pushing his empty plate away contentedly. "Speaking of which," he looked up at Dill, "I need to go feed the nanamals. Shall I take the boys?"

"Yes, my love. Do it before their bath. That way they can just hop right in afterwards. Make sure you get them to help you with cleaning the shed out. They need to understand that if you have animals you need to look after them," she told him as she sat down to eat her own breakfast.

"Animals? You guy have animals?" Valentine grinned.

"Yes, we have animals. Daddy just can't say no," Dill frowned at Ty.

McQueen shifted uncomfortably. "We differed in our opinions as to whether the kids could have pets."

"Oh dear," Valentine laughed. "Can I come with you when you go to feed them?"

"If you can wield a broom, you're welcome," Ty grinned.

"Oh, I think I can manage a broom!"

"Excellent, because I hate sweeping up!" Ty laughed. "Okay, you ready to go then?"

"But I'm not dressed!"

"Neither am I. There's no one around to see us, and I'm damned sure Humphrey won't care!"

"But you have on sweatpants - I'm in my pyjamas!"

"Be grateful I'm not in mine!" McQueen grinned, standing up. "That'd scare the animals half to death. Sure scared me when I saw 'em."

"Oh, give over about the bloody pyjamas, Ty," Dill chuckled. "Go and see to those poor animals. Let them out of their shed." She stroked his behind as he walked past her. "Hurry up though - Malcolm will be here in just over an hour."

"Our fishing trip?" Valentine's eyes opened wide. "I can't wait!"

"I believe Malcolm is taking you to a couple of places, but you'd better get a move on if you're going to be ready when he gets here," Dill told them.

McQueen called the boys, and finding some boots for Valentine while Dill got the children, including Izzy, ready, they finally set off laughing and joking to the paddock, leaving Bella and Dill to plan their shopping trip.

Ty and Valentine were having the time of their lives, standing waist deep in the cold waters of the loch, teasing each other about who would be catching the most fish and whose technique was best.

There had been a dangerous moment when Malcolm had arrived to collect them and Valentine had done a double take, causing both Malcolm and Ty to busy themselves with packing the back of Malcolm's Land Rover.

McQueen had also had to apologise to Malcolm for his outburst and accusations of a few days ago. They'd agreed to try and start afresh, no hard feelings. Ty had been mortified, however, when Malcolm had asked him, as he was driving along, if he was okay now after the incident in the woodshed, saying that Cameron's fit had frightened the life out of him. Valentine's eyebrows had gone sky-high, especially as Malcolm, oblivious to the glare McQueen was giving him, had gone into details.

However once they'd arrived at their chosen spot and Malcolm had got them kitted out in waist high waders and into the water for their first lesson in fly fishing, all worries had gone from McQueen's mind as he'd become engrossed in learning this new skill.

Malcolm watched them from the loch side. He only ventured into the water to correct their stance or adjust the way they flicked the rod. Otherwise he gave them encouragement only, laughing at the way they teased each other. With it fast approaching lunchtime, the ghillie busied himself in setting up a table and spreading out lunch for the other men.

"Lord, I'm starved!" Valentine announced. "Good job we're not relying on you to provide us with lunch, McQueen. We'd starve to death! Have you actually caught anything yet?"

"You can talk," McQueen retorted. "What did you get? Salmon so small Malcolm had to throw them back!"

"Call yourself a marine? I thought they always got their man. Or fish in this case," Valentine taunted.

"That's the Mounties, you fool!" McQueen laughed.

"With the noise that you've both been making you'll not be getting any fish," Malcolm called from the bank. "You'll have frightened them all away."

"See? That big mouth of yours is why I've caught no fish!" McQueen grinned at Valentine. "Now shut up and give me some peace. Dill wants some trout for dinner tonight."

"Trout is it she's wanting?" Malcolm smiled. "And why did you not tell me that before? We'll have to go elsewhere for trout. Lunch is ready, and afterwards we'll visit a trout spot to see what you can catch. Perhaps I'll teach you how to tickle them."

Wading over to the bank, both men shed their waders and sat down on the grass to eat.

"T.C.?" Valentine ventured.

"Yeah?" Ty mumbled around a mouthful of crusty bread.

"Your little chap Cameron. What did Malcolm here mean about him knowing you needed help? Feel free to tell me to mind my own business."

McQueen stared at him warily. "Mind your own business."

Valentine looked away, then back at him. "This morning, while we were having breakfast, Cameron said you were very happy today, and that Dylan needed to cook you a big breakfast because you were, I believe his words were, 'hungry as anything'. Then in you came asking for sausages."

"He knows I like a big breakfast," McQueen shrugged.

"While the children had their dinner last night he told Hamish that you were sorry for telling him off, but that you loved him very much. He also told Dylan that you were cross with her."

"Look, he just says stuff. You must have noticed that. If you let him, he'll talk your ears off." McQueen looked around for more food. "What's this?" he asked Malcolm, picking up a small pie.

"Game pie."

"Oh, right," Ty said, none the wiser, but taking a bite anyway. "It's good."

Valentine watched him carefully, aware that he was deliberately trying not to answer his questions. This time he addressed Malcolm. "So what did Cameron do that frightened you so much?"

Malcolm eyed McQueen, who shrugged resignedly. "You don't give up, do you Val?"

"Hey, what can I say? Malcolm said what he said, and I'm incredibly nosy," Valentine grinned.

"We were on the loch, in a boat, the wee laddies and me. Young Cameron went deathly white and started shaking. He looked terrified and started crying, all the while whispering 'my daddy'. I did notice, however, that wee Hamish ignored him at first, as though he'd seen it before." Malcolm stopped as McQueen opened his mouth to speak, but Valentine got in first.

"So you think this has happened before?"

"Well, when I stopped at Mrs. Mackenzie's, she was far more worried about the Colonel here than she was the wee laddie. She told me that Cameron would be fine; that it was the colonel she was worried about." Malcolm eyed McQueen speculatively. "And indeed she was right. It seemed to me that she'd seen the laddie do it before."

"And had she?" Valentine asked McQueen.

"Drop it Val," he growled.

"She had, hadn't she? The very fact that you won't say means it's true!" Valentines eyes sparkled with delight. "What about Hamish? Can he do it too?"

"Val," McQueen warned him, glaring angrily at him now.

"Is it just you, or can he tell how anyone else is feeling?" Valentine asked gaily. "How long has he been able to do it? Can he tell how you feel even when you're away from home? How far does this sensitivity reach?"

"Val! That's enough! What the hell is it with you? I told you to drop it!" McQueen yelled, his mind racing. Valentine was pumping him for information. Why? He thought back to when they'd first met. Valentine had pushed to find out about his children. Ty's heart almost stopped when he recalled that over dinner the evening before Val had got Dill taking about Hamish - how much bigger and stronger he was than Cameron... how people often didn't realise they were twins. Taking a deep breath, Ty sat and stared at the man in front of him. With his brown hair falling over one eye, and his brown eyes twinkling, McQueen thought he looked a lot like West. Except West was far more earnest. How much did he really know about this man? Nothing, he realised. Fear grew in his heart.

"Why, Val? Why do you want to know so much about my boys? They're just kids. Normal, everyday kids."

"Except Cameron appears to have empathic abilities. I wouldn't say that's normal, would you?"

"Who do you work for? Aerotech?" McQueen asked, speaking his fear aloud.

Valentine stared at him, assessing his answer. "You have major issues with Aerotech, don't you?"

"I'm a tank. What do you think?"

"What if I told you I do work for them? Would you believe me if I said I'm on your side?" Valentine asked softly.

"I invited you into my home, and you work for Aerotech?" McQueen was horrified. Despite his suspicions, he hadn't wanted it to be true. He turned to Malcolm. "Pack up. We're leaving!"

Malcolm jumped, his eyes wide at the sudden change of demeanour. He could see why this man was a colonel. He positively oozed his command through every pore.

"When we get home I want you gone!" McQueen yelled at Valentine. "If you or any of your geeks ever come to my home... ever try to get near to my boys, I swear I'll hunt you down."

Valentine, still sitting on the grass, stared at him, a smile on his face. "I believe you would, wouldn't you? Well, who would have believed it? You know, they tell us lab geeks that 'tanks don't feel'. That we're not creating humans who can understand concepts like love, commitment or loyalty. We're just making more stupid tanks. But they're wrong. I knew that the moment I set eyes on you. Watching you with Dylan, you know what love is. How to give it and receive it. You know about commitment. You understand about loyalty. And I'm sure you'd kill to protect your family."

"Yes, I would. Now get up before I drag you up! We're leaving, and you'll be out of my home before you do any more damage!"

"That's interesting," Valentine smiled. "Your 'home'. That's twice now."

"Of course it's my home. What else should it be?" McQueen growled. Valentine's unperturbed attitude was beginning to worry him. "What have you done?" he whispered, thoughts of kidnappings running through his head.

"What?" Valentine asked, confusion on his face. "What should I have done?"

McQueen stepped up close to him, nose to nose. "If anything has happened to any member of my family... if Aerotech have got their greedy hands on my children... you won't see tomorrow morning. "

Valentine blanched. "You… you think I've arranged for them to snatch your children?" He was horrified. "What kind of a man do you think I am?"

"I think you're an Aerotech geek, sent to wheedle his way into my home so Aerotech could get their hands on Hamish!"

"On Hamish?" Valentine muttered to himself. He looked McQueen square in the eye. "You're right. I do work for Aerotech. I'm a geneticist. I'm the geek who splices and dices whatever I'm given to create the perfect tank. You know what, McQueen? I know things about you that you'd rather not know."

"You dirty, stinking, low life scum!" McQueen swung for him. Valentine ducked and Malcolm grabbed the marine's arm.

"You'll not be wanting to do that," Malcolm said quietly.

"I damn well do!" McQueen said, shaking himself free. "Do you have any idea what those bastards will do if they get their hands on my boys? Lab rats - that's what they'll be. If they don't dissect 'em first to see how they tick!" He turned to Valentine, who'd ducked behind Malcolm. "You are not getting my kids! Do you hear me?" he yelled.

"I don't want your kids," Valentine told him, staying behind Malcolm, "but I know a man who does. Who's very interested that the tank T.C. McQueen actually has children, because you were supposed to have been rendered sterile."

McQueen was puce with rage, desperately struggling with Malcolm to get at Valentine. Malcolm was managing, despite Ty's strength, to hold him off. All McQueen could think was that his children were in danger. All logic - all rational reasoning - had long since flown. "Keep away from Hamish! Keep away from all of my children!" he spat at Valentine.

"I don't want your children, McQueen! Are you not hearing me? What happened to your invitro hearing? Are you suddenly deaf?" Valentine yelled back. "I can help you. It's obvious you think there's something odd about your boys, and I can help you. After we met on that cruise, I did some digging. I know what it is. I know what Aerotech were up to when they created your batch, all those years ago. You weren't bred to be a miner. You were supposed to be a breeder!"

McQueen tore himself away from Malcolm and leapt at Valentine, determined to wipe the smug grin off his face. Valentine, however, had other ideas. He jumped backwards and allowed Malcolm to once again get between the two of them. Malcolm shoved at McQueen, pushing him away. McQueen grabbed for Valentine, who shoved both men away from him, causing McQueen to lose his balance and pull Malcolm into the loch with him.

Valentine stood on the grass and laughed at the expression, so alike, on both men's faces. "Are you sure you two aren't related?" he chuckled. Val crouched down and stared at McQueen as he spluttered in the water. "Will you listen to me, please? I've seen that both you and Dylan are fiercely protective of both your boys, and I see why. You fear for them. You're afraid Aerotech - some geek like me - interfered with your genes, and that's affecting your children."

"Don't presume to tell me what I think or feel!" McQueen snarled, hauling himself out of the loch, pulling Malcolm out with him.

"Before you beat me to a pulp, please just listen. I understand your reluctance. I swear Aerotech didn't send me to spy on you or your family. Please T.C., please. I can help you understand why Cameron's the way he is."

"Nothing you have to say is of any interest to me. Don't bother trying to find us. I'm taking my family away from here. Someplace where Aerotech will never get their hands on Hamish."

Ty began walking away in the general direction of home, his thoughts only on getting his family away from Aerotech.

"Listen to the man, McQueen," Malcolm called. "Let him speak his piece."

"Why? So he can give his puppeteers at Aerotech more time to get to us?" McQueen shook his head. "I'm sorry, Malcolm, my family is far too important to me to allow that."

"Didn't you hear me, T.C.? I know what Aerotech did to you!" Valentine called after him. "It's not Hamish you need to worry about. It's little Cameron!"

McQueen stopped. Whatever Valentine might have thought, he'd heard everything he'd said, and his mind was buzzing. He was born to be a breeder? Cameron? It was Cameron Aerotech wanted, not Hamish? His mind whirled. His anger was dissipating as part of his brain began thinking about places of safety for Dill and the children. The rest of it fixated on the fact that Valentine had answers. Maybe.

He turned around, and before Malcolm could stop him, he'd grabbed Valentine and flung him to the ground. "Tell me," he ordered him. "Tell me what they did to me."

"Stop it!" Malcolm said placidly, holding Ty back from the kick he was aiming at Val. "If you want him to tell you, then I suggest you sit down like the civilised men you claim to be. I'll pour you out a drink, and then I'll go sit over there, where I won't hear you and you can talk privately, but I can see that you don't hit each other."

McQueen glared at the Scotsman. A glare that would have had any of the 58th shuffling uncomfortably, but merely left Malcolm smiling ruefully. "My grandfather did better than that, Colonel. Now sit and let the man speak."

Ty sat himself on the grass, shifting uncomfortably in his wet clothes. "Hurry up," he grouched at Valentine. "I'm cold."

"Here, drink this." Malcolm handed him a glass of whiskey. "It'll keep the chill out."

Nodding his thanks, McQueen sipped at it, closing his eyes in pleasure as the warmth spread through him. "Tell me," he said calmly to Valentine, opening his eyes to stare straight at him.

"After we met, I did some digging. You were so proud of your children, and rightly so. They're lovely kids, by the way." Valentine watched him warily. "So I checked records. Found your batch number, inception date and genetic coding." He took a deep breath. "You were part of a series of code yellow batches."

"What's that supposed to mean?" McQueen interrupted him.

"It meant that specific gene splicing was done on those batches. Changes in the genetic make up were made," Valentine told him.

"I knew it," McQueen said wearily. "What were they trying to do, get us to breed super soldiers? You said I was supposed to be a breeder?"

"The idea was that they would make genetic enhancements in several areas. Code yellow seems to have been telepathy. None of the first batch showed any signs, so someone suggested it might be a latent gene that would show in any children. So the next batches were then enhanced with 'breeding' in mind." Valentine's eyes twinkled. "So that's what they did. They decanted them, and started them breeding."

"Like animals," Ty whispered, horrified.

"Oh, it gets worse. Far worse," Valentine told him sadly. "The babies that actually survived to term - most were lost before birth - suffered from a range of genetic defects. You see, they'd had to interfere so much they'd messed up other vital genetic information without realising it. The birth defects were awful. None of the children survived more than a week or two after birth."

"But I was sent straight to the mines. Decanted and sent on my way the same day," McQueen told him.

"It was decided that the experiment was an expensive failure, so the last two batches were sent to places where Aerotech hoped they'd die. Or if they survived, they'd be sterile. No one would ever know." Valentine looked Ty square in the eye. "You are the only invitro from those last two batches to have children. And if Aerotech already knew about Cameron, you'd never see him again. They know you have children T.C., and to be honest, they're flummoxed. They don't understand how after five years on a uranium mining facility you were still fertile. Why do you think they've made such a stink about your leg? They want to get you in the 'care' of their doctors and under a general anaesthetic so they can have a look. But being mister nosy, as I am, I researched this whole uranium thing. And as you no doubt know, it wouldn't have made any of you infertile. Someone at Aerotech made a mistake and once you were there, it was too late to do anything about it without drawing attention to the matter."

McQueen paled. "Thank God for Mister Ashbourne and his lawyers," he muttered.

"More than you know," Valentine said gravely. "Ashbourne has had dealings with Aerotech before. He knows exactly where to hit them to make them hurt."

"Why are you telling me this?" McQueen eyed him suspiciously.

"Because I thought we were friends. Friends look out for each other, T.C. I'm sorry that you feel we can't be friends because of who I work for. It's a shame you feel that way, because I really enjoyed being your friend."

McQueen sipped at his drink. Getting up to pour himself a refill, he turned and offered the bottle to Valentine. "So what about Hamish? He's a full head taller than the little guy. He's strong, has enhanced hearing, and an amazing sense of smell. What's he supposed to be?"

"As far as I can tell, that's just normal genetics for you. Does he exhibit any signs of telepathic ability?" Valentine said, as he held out his glass to be refilled.

McQueen shook his head. "No, not like Cameron does. In fact, I'd say none at all."

"Well, he does have half your genes. And those invitro genes are dominant, so that would account for the strength and stuff. Perhaps he's picked up his height from Dylan's family," Valentine said with a shrug. "If you wanted, I could run a full DNA analysis on them both, which would tell you what you want to know."

McQueen shot him a look. "No. I don't want Aerotech getting their hands on anything to do with my children."

"I agree. I think it's possible that only Cameron got that particular gene activated. I wonder why?" Valentine pondered, as he took a few sips of his whiskey.

"What do you know about the earlier tanks? I researched and discovered that they were stronger... bigger, but had less chance of surviving their decanting because of the genetic interfering."

"How much earlier?" Valentine asked.

"I was decanted in forty-three, so..." Ty thought about it for a minute. "The thirties?"

"You think I know everything?" Valentine laughed.

"It was a simple question," McQueen said tersely.

"Why do you want to know?" Val saw the glare McQueen gave him. "Okay, okay. I surrender!" he laughed. "I don't now much. I think that was when they were trying to produce the super soldier, for the IV Platoons, so I guess a fair amount of enhancements were done. And of course, as they learned, too much interfering causes big problems, so not many would have survived long after decanting."

"Those that did?" McQueen prompted.

"I don't know. Bigger... stronger than your average tank. More amenable, I guess. But I don't know. I mean, come on - I was a kid back then!" Valentine looked at McQueen, assessing him. "Why do you want to know?"

"Dill's father is an invitro. The children have more than just my tank genes. They have some of his, too," Ty smiled. "You should see him. He's six feet seven, if he's an inch!"

"An invitro? No wonder Hamish is tall then," Valentine laughed. "But Dylan is tiny. I mean, she only reaches up to your chin!"

"She's strong though. Almost as strong as I am," McQueen smiled. "With a right hook you really want to avoid."

"Judging by the state of your face, which I'd like to point out both Bella and I have refrained from commenting on," Val grinned wickedly, "I'd say you speak from experience. Bella is worried though. She said it seemed unlikely you'd be a battered husband, but you can never tell. Especially knowing the invitro training to be submissive." He paused. "I believe she was going to tackle Dylan about it today while they shopped."

McQueen paled. "Oh hell," he sighed.

"What? You're not telling me that, you are? Are you?" Valentine asked, shocked.

"No, I'm not. But Dill's convinced otherwise." He looked up at Valentine. "This was an accident. We were arguing, and she pushed me. I grabbed her and we fell. Her head hit me in the face and my nose broke. It looks worse than it is. You should have seen me a few days ago."

"An accident? Isn't that what you'd say if you were covering for her?" Valentine said seriously, his eyes searching McQueen's face as if he could read the truth there.

"I'm not covering for her. Dill has a temper and I can wind her up real good. Twice she's lost it and hit me. No more than a punch to the jaw." Ty looked at Valentine. "Twice, Val, in six years. But she seems to think that's regular beatings. So if Bella says anything to her, she'll lose it. She'll tell your wife how abusive and dominating she is, that she beats me all the time. She'll convince her that she abuses me. She doesn't, Val. Truly she doesn't."

"Why did she hit you?" Valentine asked quietly.

McQueen sat and stared at him for a long moment. Despite the fact that he worked for the enemy, he really liked Val. He wanted to believe that he really was a friend. Taking a deep breath, he decided to risk it. He sighed. "You really want to know?"

Valentine nodded.

"It was my fault both times," McQueen told him. "And I'm not just saying that. It was before the boys were born, when I didn't really understand how to deal with the way I felt about her. I was convinced that one day she'd wake up and be horrified that she was involved with a tank. The first time it happened, we'd spent a week together at a friend's beach house, just me and Dill." He smiled at the memory. "We had a great time. We'd only known each other about a year, maybe eighteen months, and it was only my second leave since we'd met. We went out to dinner and we got attacked. Because I'm a tank, of course. I realised I hadn't been able to help her. She could have been raped. They were planning to." He stopped and sipped his drink. "So I told her it was over. I couldn't be responsible for her getting hurt, and I left."

Valentine simply sat and stared at him, causing McQueen to flush with embarrassment.

"It was cowardly, I know. But Dill, being Dill, she came after me. I told her to go away and leave me alone. That I'd made my decision and that was that. But this was Dill. She punched me on the jaw just to get me to pay attention to her, I think, and she told me how it was. By the time she'd finished, I knew I couldn't lose her." Ty smiled shyly at Valentine. "I ended up asking her to marry me."

"And the second time?" Valentine prompted. "I'm still deciding whether that sounds like a cover story," he grinned.

"The second time was eight months later. She turned up on the 'Toga, hugely pregnant. She must have got pregnant while we were together."

"That's how it usually happens," Valentine laughed.

"Smart arse," Ty smiled. "Well, the second time, she hadn't told me she was pregnant. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I thought they were someone else's... that she'd come to say goodbye and wave what I could never have under my nose."

"What you could never have?"

"I'd been told that due to," he hesitated, "a war wound, I'd never father children. I was upset. Dill was upset. We rowed. She hit me. Just once, but afterwards she swore she'd never hit me again, and she hasn't. So no, I'm definitely not a battered husband. Dill feels incredibly guilty about it still, though, so this," he indicated his face, "really doesn't help."

"She still feels guilty about it? After what, three years?"

"There are other things involved too. More to do with me than her." Ty glanced at Valentine. "Things that you don't need to know about."

"Damn!" he laughed. "You know I love a good bit of gossip!"

Malcolm appeared by the side of the table. "If you two gentleman are finished, are you wanting to go to the trout spot or not? Perhaps we should return for dry clothing first?"

Valentine looked at Ty. "Your call, McQueen. Are you throwing me out or not?"

McQueen stared at him. He liked Valentine, damn him. He wasn't sure if he trusted him yet, that still had to be proved, but…. "Oh hell," he finally said. "I'm okay if you are. Malcolm, let's get Dill some trout for dinner."

"Yes, sir," the ghillie smiled, starting to pack away the lunch things.

"You catch a trout? Who are you fooling, McQueen? You couldn't catch a cold!" Valentine chuckled, as they picked up their waders and fishing rods.

"Well, maybe we've been using the wrong bait," Ty smiled wryly. "I'll try feeding them that tongue of yours - it never stops wagging!"

"Well, you may have some luck with that," Malcolm smiled. "The trout do like a bit of meat."

"See?" McQueen laughed, clapping Valentine on the back.

"Oh, now I'm scared!" Valentine grinned wickedly.

"So you should be! Don't you know you've been in the loch with the monster that eats people?"

"What?"

"Come on. I'll tell you while Malcolm drives us to the next fishing hole."

Together they headed to the Land Rover. Malcolm following them, watching. He'd not listened to what had been said, but this strange camaraderie seemed wrong. He looked at McQueen, who was definitely not looking as relaxed as when they'd left the house this morning. If anything, he seemed more uptight... more tightly controlled, as if the smiling exterior was merely a front. He shook his head as he realised that's exactly what it was. Maybe he should persuade them to go back now before the colonel let the façade slip.


	7. Chapter 7

Dill came out of the bathroom, her robe tied loosely around her as she towelled her hair dry. McQueen lay in bed, watching her as she stepped carefully over the train track.

"Come and sit down," he said. "Let me do that for you and you can tell me all about your day. Did you buy anything nice? Anything you'd care to model for me?"

Sitting herself on the edge of the bed, Dill surrendered the towel to him as he knelt up behind her and began rubbing her hair. "By that I take it you mean did I visit that underwear shop again?" she chuckled.

"Oh yeah," Ty whispered, letting his breath blow gently into her ear.

"I'm afraid not, but tell me what you'd like me to buy and I might make a special visit, just for you," Dill giggled.

Ty let the towel drop and began massaging her shoulders. "You know what I like," he breathed huskily, leaning against her back, pushing his erection against her.

"Black silk," she sighed as his hands slipped around to gently rub her nipples. "Suspenders and stockings."

"Oh yeah," he groaned rubbing himself against her harder.

"But why?" Dill murmured as Ty began dropping soft kisses on her throat and neck, slipping her robe down her shoulders so he could kiss her collarbones.

"So I can take 'em off, see what you're hiding underneath," he said softly, as he pulled her backwards onto the bed.

"But you know what's underneath," she gasped, as his hand slowly began tracing circles on her thigh, his fingers gently brushing against her centre.

"But it's much more fun if I get to slide those stockings down your legs first... if I get to hook my tongue under your panties before I pull 'em off" Ty told her, his voice low and husky. His mouth slowly moved to her bared breasts, as he undid her robe and pulled it away from her body.

Dill wriggled under his attentions, her hand snaking out to stroke his hard cock. She sighed as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. "I don't think I'll ever get over the way you make me feel."

McQueen chuckled, his mouth around her nipple sending vibrations through her breast, making her moan softly. His chuckle turned to a soft moan as her hand gripped him, her thumb rubbing gently over his tip as she massaged him. A shudder ran through his body. "Oh yeah," he groaned. "Do it, Dill."

She turned her head, trying to take him in her mouth, but he shifted, his fingers sliding inside her hot depths as his hips thrust him forwards and into her hand.

"No, Dill, like this," he whispered, as his thrusts into her hand increased. "It's so good."

Dill whimpered as his fingers found her little nub and began to stroke it. Her body bucked upwards as Ty moved his head lower and climbed across her so that he straddled her on his hands and knees. He dipped his head to suckle on her nub, his fingers sliding deep inside her hot slick entrance. She released her hold on his cock and took him into her mouth, sucking him hard as he tried to pull out. He lifted his head to turn and look at her as she grabbed his behind and kneaded it pulling him down to her.

"No, Dill," he groaned. "Your hand!"

"Sir, yes, sir," she giggled, taking hold of him again as he thrust his hips forwards, revelling in the feel of her hands on him.

Dill began to shudder and buck as Ty's fingers worked her hard. Her hands dropped from him to grip the bed sheet as he worked her towards a climax. He chuckled as he felt her body shudder under his ministrations, and he and bent his head to lick her clean. He gasped as he felt her mouth engulf him again, and her hands grab his hips and pull him down to her.

Dill sucked him hard, slowly taking his entire length into her mouth. Ty squirmed on top of her, his body desperate to buck, to thrust himself deeper into her mouth. Instead he grabbed her and flipped them over, crying out as he pulled himself free of her mouth.

"Fuck me," she demanded. "For God's sake just fuck me."

"My pleasure," he whispered, turning around and sliding himself into her wet core.

Dill wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust her hips upwards, meeting his thrusts as his mouth descended on her nipple. Suckling hard and savagely as he pounded inside her, Ty's head swam from the sensations she was creating as her fingers gently stroked over his navel. He felt her hot breath, and then, sending his body into a spasm of wild thrusts, her tongue rimming the edge of his navel, dipping into the centre of it, sucking on it, sending fire coursing through his veins as his body screamed for release. His hips relentlessly pounded into her until, with a cry and his head nestled against her neck, he came.

Opening his eyes, Ty saw Dill smiling down at him. "Are you okay?" she asked. "You passed out on me there for a bit longer than usual."

"I'm fine," he whispered. "Come down here and cuddle me. I seem to have lost the ability to move."

Laughing, she snuggled up next to him and pulled the duvet over them.

"You know, Dill," Ty sighed sleepily, "it'd be nice to live somewhere that we didn't need a duvet in June."

"I know, my lover. Why don't you think about it while you sleep," she whispered to him, stroking his hair and kissing his cheek.

"But you haven't told me about your shopping trip," he murmured.

"You know full well you don't really want to know about it," Dill told him, kissing his jaw.

"I do too!" Ty exclaimed, his hand gently stroking her back.

"We went into Inverness, we looked around the shops, we had lunch, and we chatted a bit. Then we came home."

"What did you talk about?" he asked. He lifted his head to look at her as she didn't answer straight away. "Dill?"

"You. Bella asked me about your face, what happened to it. I told her, but I got the feeling she didn't believe me," Dill snuggled closer in his arms. "Do you think she thinks I did it on purpose?" she asked in a small voice.

"I'm sure she doesn't. Why would she think that?"

"I don't know, but it felt like she was accusing me of deliberately hurting you."

Ty rolled onto his side and gathered her in his arms more comfortably. "We know what happened. That's what matters. You are not some husband beating monster. You never have been, and you never will be. So stop feeling guilty about it." He kissed her gently. "Do you really think I would still be here with you, in this bed, if you beat me? Hell no, Dill. I put up with that in the mines because I didn't know any better. I do now. I'd never put up with that again. I know how much you love me. I know you would never hurt me, and so do you."

Dill smiled up at him. "I am so lucky that I met you, Tyrus McQueen. So very lucky that you wanted me like I wanted you. There's no one, not one single person on this planet, who is happier than you make me. I can only hope that I make you as happy."

"Yes, you do," he told her. "When I was first on earth, and I found out about families and marriage and loving someone so much you'd die for them, there were times when I used to cry myself to sleep." Ty grinned at her startled expression. "Well, I was only five, remember. I would lie in my bunk in those damn barracks and cry because I thought I would never have any of those things, and I wanted them so much. I wanted to have someone who would look out for me, who wouldn't care that I was a 'dirty tank'. I just wanted to be loved. When I met Amy I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I thought this is it; this is what I've been waiting for. I guess that's why it hurt so much when it turned out I was wrong. After that I withdrew. No one was going to make me hurt like that again... make me turn to the green meanies again. Then you showed up, with those big blue eyes, that impish grin and that incredibly misleading air of vulnerability. I fell for you hard, before I'd even realised it. I tried to fight it, but it was no good. You'd ensnared me with your elven magic!" he chuckled.

"My elven magic?" Dill's hand reached up to feel his forehead. "You don't feel feverish. Do you feel okay?" she laughed. "You know, you floored me when you called me your elf. I'd never have put you down as someone who read about elves."

"Yeah, well, I don't, not any more," he told her. "But in those early days, when I was learning to read, the other guys in my squad 'helped' me. They must have chosen the most god-awful children's books they could find, full of fairies and elves, pixies and talking animals. They told me that they were ordinary books that everyone read."

"Oh, you poor thing," Dill giggled. "No wonder you look so disgusted on the disc of you reading Wind in the Willows."

"Yep," he smiled. "Eventually my C.O. realised what they were doing, and bawled them out. But I must have read everything they could find by Beatrix Potter by then, and there were some with a guy in a big blue hat with a bell on the end. He had a friend called…."

"Big Ears? They made you read Noddy? Oh God, Ty, you really are more damaged than you look!"

He nodded. "Yeah, that's the one. You know it?"

Dill giggled helplessly in his arms. "My poor, poor darling. You know, I did buy some underwear today."

"You did?" he asked eagerly.

"Not for me though."

"Damn! For the kids, I suppose," he sighed.

"No, for you," she told him. "Just so that you can say you own a pair of boxers that aren't marine issue khaki. I've been adding slowly to your wardrobe, and I figured it was time to see that sexy butt clad in something else. "

"I've noticed," Ty smiled, kissing her. "Soon I'll be able to come home with only the clothes I stand up in."

"That's the idea, my lover. Here you're daddy, and Colonel McQueen gets left at the gates. I've not bought you anything you really hate, have I? Well, apart from the sandals. But you do look incredibly sexy in them. Very manly," Dill giggled.

"Oh, stop it, you bad woman," he chuckled. "Go to sleep."

"Yes, Ty," she chuckled. "Anything you say, my lover.

"Then stop fidgeting, kiss me, and go to sleep."

"Yes, sir!"

"Good girl."

Dill woke with a start. The whole room was illuminated for a moment, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw someone standing by the bed. The light faded and a peal of thunder rumbled loudly overhead.

"Mummy?" It was Cameron standing by the bed, tears rolling down his face.

"Oh, darling, into bed with me and daddy," she smiled, throwing back the duvet. "Did the thunder scare you?"

"Hamish told me to listen," he sobbed, "but I couldn't hear it. He said I was silly."

McQueen stretched, woken by the little boy's fidgeting as he got into the bed. "Hey, little guy. What're you doing here?"

Another peal of thunder directly overhead answered him. That, and the way Cameron almost jumped on him. "Guess you're scared, huh?"

Cameron nodded wordlessly, his thumb firmly fixed in his mouth and his eyes wide with fear.

As another peal of thunder sounded and the heavens opened, they could hear Izzy crying.

"I'll go," Dill said, climbing from the bed. "I expect she's scared too. No doubt Hamish is sleeping peacefully."

Cameron took his thumb out of his mouth. "He's gone," he said quietly.

"Gone?" Dill asked.

"What do you mean, gone?" Ty asked, sitting bolt upright, his first thoughts of Aerotech.

"In the garden," Cameron sobbed, each peal of thunder frightening him more. "He left me all alone."

Dill looked at Ty. "What do I do? See to Izzy or fetch Hamish?"

"Fetch Hamish. We'll see to Izzy, won't we, little guy?" he told her. "Go, Dill. Get him inside now before he gets soaked."

Stopping only to pull on her robe, Dill dashed out to get Hamish back inside.

He was sitting on the top of the climbing frame, smiling.

"Hamish, get down and come indoors right now!" Dill ordered.

He turned to look at her. "But mummy, it smells good!" he cried. "Smell it, mummy"

"I'm sure it does darling, but you're getting wet, and the climbing frame isn't safe when there's lightning."

"Can you hear it, mummy? It's coming. Watch!" Hamish slowly climbed down and came over to her. "Listen, mummy. It's coming."

"What's coming, darling?" Dill asked, pulling him into the shelter of the back door.

"The light. It's fizzing and crackly," he told her, looking up her. "Can't you hear it?" At the shake of her head, he sighed. "Cameron couldn't either. He just cried."

"He was scared, sweetie. Not everyone thinks this is exciting. Izzy's scared too. Come on inside now. Let's get you some dry pyjamas and pop you back into bed. I'll open the curtains so you can see it, okay?"

"Okay, mummy," Hamish sighed, allowing Dill to pick him up and carry him back to his bedroom.

Izzy was asleep, tucked up snugly in her cot, Cameron's doll Cashus snuggled with her.

"Look, Izzy's asleep. We need to be quiet while we get you dry," Dill whispered to the little boy.

"She's got Cashus," Hamish said, wide-eyed.

"Cameron's got daddy. He doesn't need Cashus at the moment, does he?" Dill told him, quickly stripping him out of his wet pyjamas.

"But he doesn't give me Cashus," Hamish said softly.

"No, darling. He gives you cuddles instead, doesn't he?" Dill told him, pulling his dry pyjama top over his head. "Now step in, sweetie, and let's get you tucked up." She held out the pyjama pants for him.

"Mummy, will you stay with me?" he asked.

"For a little while, darling," she told him. "Now come on - hop into bed and I'll tell you a story."

"Will you tell me 'bout daddy?" he asked. "'bout daddy and the foot painting."

Dill smiled. Hamish never tired of hearing how his daddy had been cross at having to do foot painting, and had helped her put her feet on the ceiling. "Of course, my lover. Now lie down and try to sleep." She lay on the bed with him as he snuggled into her arms with a contented sigh.

Ty lay in bed, Cameron held firmly in his arms. "It's okay, little guy, it can't hurt you. It's just noise, that's all," he soothed, as Cameron trembled with each fresh peal of thunder.

He rested his head back on the pillow, stroking Cameron's back. Ty remembered how scared he'd been the first time he'd ever woken up to hear thunder and lightning. His squad mates had all laughed at him as he'd lain trembling in his bunk, the covers pulled over his head, terrified out of his wits. One man, his nearest bunk mate, Jenkins, had waited for everyone to settle down again, and once he was sure they'd gone back to sleep, had come to sit on his bunk, stroking his back and soothing him until he'd slept. The following night McQueen had waited until everyone else was asleep and had climbed into bed with him, meaning to pay him back in the only way he knew how. Jenkins had been disgusted and had pushed him out of the bed, only realising later what it had been about. Saddened and horrified, he'd explained to the astounded McQueen that payback didn't have to be sexual. That, in fact, simply helping a frightened friend didn't require payback. He'd lain in bed and wondered what a 'friend' was.

Hugging Cameron closer to him, he began to talk very softly, hoping the boy would settle to sleep. "Did you have a good day today, little guy?" he whispered. "I kinda did. I enjoyed fishing. Shame we didn't get any fish for mommy to cook though. Do you think she was disappointed? If she was, she hid it well. She's good like that, your mommy." Ty sighed. He was talking gibberish and he knew it, but he hoped the sound of his voice would soothe the small boy. "You know, I love mommy very much. But I guess you can tell that. I love you, too. And Hamish. Izzy, too. Hell," he smiled to himself, "I even love grandma, in a funny kinda way. What else do you know about me, Cameron?" he wondered out loud.

"You have lots of ouches," Cameron whispered. "Inside ouches, that mummy can't see."

"Inside ouches?" Ty pondered on the fact that Cameron had just picked up on his feelings again.

"Don't be frightened, daddy. Mummy loves you. You can tell her. She won't be scared of your inside ouches."

"She won't, huh?" Ty smiled. "You can tell what mommy's feeling too?"

"Sometimes," Cameron told him. "Is it wrong, daddy?"

"No, my lover, it's not wrong," he reassured him, his mind racing over the knowledge that his son could pick up on Dill's feelings too.

"Silly!" Cameron chuckled. "I'm mummy's lover. You say little guy."

"Sorry," he smiled. "I do, don't I? But why can't you be my lover too?"

"Because I'm your little guy, silly!"

"Oh, okay." Ty paused, thinking for a moment. "Cameron, can you tell how I'm feeling when I'm gone? When I go back to the Saratoga?"

"Sometimes," Cameron nodded. "Sometimes you shout and you're angry. That frightens me, daddy. Don't be angry."

"I'll try. What else do you feel?"

"Sometimes you're happy. Once you were so happy you nearly cried. Sometimes you do cry. I don't tell mummy that anymore. It makes her sad and she cries too. Sometimes you feel…," he paused, trying to find words to explain what he didn't understand. "Sometimes you need mummy. That makes you sad, but then you feel… like you feel when you're with mummy… when mummy makes you happy… when she plays with your penis. But mummy's not there… do you play with your penis by yourself, daddy?"

McQueen was glad it was dark. No one could see his blush. "Sometimes," he admitted. There was obviously no point lying to the boy, and Dill believed in being honest with the children. "Can you feel Hamish or Izzy?"

"Sometimes. Izzy lots, but Hamish doesn't let me."

"Can you feel anyone else? Bella or Valentine maybe?" McQueen asked, wondering if Cameron would be able to tell if Val was being honest.

"Shall I see daddy?" Cameron asked eagerly. He could feel that this was important to his daddy and wanted to please him.

McQueen lay there for a moment or two, just cuddling his young son, wondering how he could justify asking him to do such a thing. True, his family was at risk. Maybe. But it was an invasion of Val's privacy. He knew he'd be angry if someone did it to him, but… his family was at risk, and he needed to know. Hell, he liked Val. He wanted to believe him.

In the end Cameron took the matter out of his hands. "Well," the little boy said, "Bella is happy. She's sleeping, but Valentine is sad." He lifted his head to look at Ty. "You made him sad?"

McQueen nodded. "I think I did."

Cameron was quiet for a moment, then, "He's sad because he thinks you're not his friend anymore. He doesn't know why you …." Again he stopped and looked up at Ty. "Daddy, do you think he's telling lies?"

"I don't know, Cameron. I hope not," McQueen sighed.

"He's not, daddy. That's why he's so sad. He wants to be friends, daddy." Cameron sat himself up and gave him the 'McQueen' glare. "You should say sorry. Mummy makes me and Hamish say sorry for being horrid. You've been horrid to Valentine."

"I will, I promise. In the morning I'll say sorry to him, okay?" McQueen grinned.

"Yes, daddy," Cameron smiled, and settled himself back down in Ty's arms, knowing that his daddy was much happier now than he had been all evening.

"Good. Come on now, little guy, let's both of us get some sleep, shall we? I wonder where mommy is?"

"She's with Hamish, sleeping," Cameron told him, climbing onto him so that he lay stretched out on top of McQueen.

Wrapping his arms around the small boy, McQueen smiled contentedly, and found himself drifting off to sleep.

McQueen was in the animal shed, sweeping it out and laying down fresh straw for Gussie and Humphrey, while the children sat outside in the paddock, stroking and feeding the animals. He looked up as he heard a cough. Valentine stood in the doorway.

"I came to ask if you'd like us to leave. I know that yesterday you said differently, but you've had a chance to sleep on it now." He looked Ty square in the eye. "If you want us to leave, I'll understand."

McQueen stared back at him, about to tell him that yes, he did want them to go, when he saw Cameron running past chasing after Humphrey, laughing with delight as the piglet ran back towards him. He looked from Cameron to Valentine and back to Cameron. He might not trust Valentine, but he trusted Cameron, and he remembered being told he had to apologise.

"I'm sorry, Val," he finally said, rushing on as he saw the other man's face fall. "Don't leave, please. I'd like you to stay. I meant I'm sorry about yesterday. I said some things that were uncalled for maybe…." He looked at Valentine. "Well, yes, they were uncalled for. I have issues with Aerotech, Val. You have to understand that. Major issues. And I shouldn't take it out on my…friends." Again he glanced over at Valentine. "At least I hope we can still be friends?"

Valentine's face lit up. "Of course we can. I'm sorry, T.C. Sorry that I poked around behind your back, but I wanted to know more about you. Sorry. It's a dreadful habit I have. I have to know. But at least now you know why Cameron is the way he is."

McQueen stared at him, unsure exactly what to say. Apologising wasn't easy, and he really didn't know if he did want to still be friends with someone who was a self confessed nosy parker. He sighed. "Grab that bucket and go fill it with clean water for me. If you're going to lurk around the pig house you better make yourself useful."

"Yes, sir!" Valentine snapped off a smart salute and a cheesy grin. "Oh, and Dylan says to wash your hands and take off your boots before you come in for breakfast or you can eat in the garden." That said, he grabbed the bucket and disappeared in the direction of the house.

Ty grinned. Maybe he did want to be friends with him after all.

After breakfast, the adults sat drinking coffee in the garden, watching as the boys climbed on the frame and generally showed off their jumping skills. Izzy had climbed into Ty's lap and was busy investigating his hair, what there was of it. He'd had it cut shortly before heading home, so it wasn't quite a buzz cut, but near enough. She kept running her hand gently over his head, watching his face intently and smiling at him.

"Why do I feel, my beautiful little dumpling, like you're looking for lice?" he asked her with a smile, his own hand running through her curls.

"Soft," she told him.

"So's yours," he told her, kissing her cheek.

"So," Dill asked, putting her empty cup onto the garden table, "what's planned for today? Would you like to go somewhere, Bella? There's Cawdor Castle. That's nice. Or we could just take a drive up into the mountains and take lunch with us. There are some lovely places to picnic, miles from anywhere. We could hike. Ty can put Izzy in the backpack thingy and carry her." She grinned. "She'll be happy picking at his lice!"

"We could go to Culloden and Fort George," McQueen offered. "Stop it now, Izzy. You're digging your fingers in my head and hurting me." He pulled the little girl's hands from his head and kissed them. "Be gentle, Izz. Gentle like with your rabbit."

"Trust you to want to do the military thing," Dill laughed. "Mind you, Culloden is somewhere the boys like to go. But this isn't about what the children want, or what we want. What would you two like to do?" She turned to Valentine and Bella, who was busy signing furiously.

"Well, I'd like to visit that ruined castle thingy we can see over on the other side of the loch, and Bella likes the idea of a picnic lunch somewhere," Valentine told her.

"Oh, Urquart Castle. We can do both. I'll get a picnic together, and Ty, you pack a bag with things we'll need for the beasties. Please don't forget Cashus, just in case."

Dill stood up, and with a quick kiss to Ty and Izzy, went inside to organise lunch. Bella followed her, offering her help.

"Cashus?" Valentine asked, puzzled. He knew the names of the children's pets, but he'd not heard Cashus before.

"His doll," Ty said dryly. "I better pack it in case he gets upset. It's a comfort thing."

"Well, I guess you'd better crack on then, marine," Valentine laughed. "Your commanding officer gave you your orders. You're slacking!"

McQueen arched an eyebrow. "And who is it wears the pants in your household?" he chuckled. "I hear the pot calling the kettle…."

"Okay, okay, I admit it," Valentine chuckled. "I do whatever Bella wants. How can I not? She's the woman I love."

"I know the feeling," Ty grinned. "Now Izzy, are you going to stay here and pick the lice out of Val's hair, or are you coming with daddy?"

Isobel looked at Valentine, a wide grin spreading across her face. "Val'tine," she declared, climbing off McQueen's lap and toddling over to Valentine, her arms held out for him to pick her up.

"I won't be long. If she starts to smell, yell," McQueen laughed, and left before Valentine could ask him what he meant.

They'd visited the castle. The boys showed Valentine and Bella all over it, Hamish leading Bella by the hand the whole time.

Now they were sitting high up on a mountainside, Izzy asleep on the picnic rug, Cameron snuggled up next to her. Hamish was busy showing Bella the fish in the small stream that ran past their chosen spot, glaring angrily at Valentine as he dangled his feet in the water.

Ty lay with his head in Dill's lap, looking up at her as she stroked his hair. "Thanks, Dill," he said softly.

"For what?" She bent to kiss him, her lips soft on his.

"For being so… you. So understanding. For making today fun when it could have been uncomfortable."

"No, my lover. Last night was uncomfortable. Dinner was excruciating, and I've never been more glad to go to bed in my life," she told him, her hand stroking his jaw line.

"What, never?" he grinned lecherously.

"Well, maybe once or twice," Dill giggled. "But you know what I meant."

"Yeah, I know what you meant," Ty sighed. "I'm sorry, Dill. You and Bella were getting on so well, and I ruined it."

"It doesn't seem ruined from where I'm sitting," she smiled. "I can see our eldest son flirting outrageously with her under her husband's very nose!"

"He does seem to like her, doesn't he?" McQueen chuckled. "Can't say I blame him."

"I beg your pardon?" Dill pretended to be offended. "I see. Cast aside when a pretty woman comes along, am I? I'm devastated, truly devastated."

Ty looked up into her eyes, seeing the laughter and the mischief in them. "Come here and let me kiss you," he said quietly. "Let me show you how much I love you." He reached up, and shifting his head from her lap, pulled her down next to him.

"Ty!" she gasped, as his hand squeezed her bottom, pulling her close to him. "We may be miles from anywhere but we still have company."

"They're busy. Come here and kiss me properly," he whispered. "Feel how much I love you, Dill... what you do to me."

She giggled as her thigh brushed against his erection. "Blimey, Ty. I think you better go take a dip in the stream and cool off."

"There's absolutely no way I can get up at the moment, so you're just gonna have to stay there and hide me until I can calm down a bit," he snickered.

"Honestly, Ty," Dill laughed. "You have the hormones of a teenaged boy! How on earth do you cope on the 'Toga?"

"I told you, I'm building up extra muscles in my right arm," he chuckled.

"Oh you!" she giggled, slapping his arm.

Hamish looked up at the sound of Dill's laughter. He watched as his parents lay in each others arms kissing. With a huge sigh, he looked up at Bella. "Kissing," he said.

Bella looked up at them. With a big smile to Hamish, she nodded and bent to kiss him on the cheek. He looked at her in wonder, his hand reaching to his face as he flushed crimson and scrubbed where she'd kissed him, making her laugh out loud.

Valentine looked up. "Hey, you little man, are you stealing my wife away?" he laughed.

"She kissed me!" Hamish sounded most affronted.

"She has a tendency to do that," Valentine nodded at him. "Was it a sloppy kiss?"

Hamish stared at him. "What's a sloppy kiss?"

"Like Izzy gives you." Valentine's eyes twinkled with delight at the expression on Hamish's face.

"Ugh! That's disgustin'," Hamish cried.

"Oh, I quite agree, young man. If I were you, I'd come on over here away from her before she does it again. I think I saw a shark in here," Valentine pointed to the water at his feet.

Hamish was over in a flash. "A shark?" He looked at Valentine warily. "There's no sharks in the water. They lives in the sea."

"Well, this water goes to the sea, doesn't it?"

Hamish nodded.

"So maybe the shark swam up the river and into the stream." Valentine watched as Hamish bent to look more closely in the water, which was all of two feet deep.

Dipping his hand in, Hamish swished it about before turning to look slyly at Valentine. "Nope, no sharks," he said, "but octopuses. Great big ones wiv loads of legs!" he laughed. "Going to catch your legses and pull you in!"

Valentine laughed long and loud. "Pah!" he cried. "Why, I've fought four octopuses before breakfast and still had room for toast!"

Hamish laughed. "Daddy's fighted chigs and still got time for kisses with mummy!"

Valentine looked over to where Dill and Ty lay oblivious to everyone else. Ty's hand disappeared under Dill's short summer dress, obviously squeezing her behind. Val raised an eyebrow; perhaps he ought to throw some cold water over them, he thought. "Hey, you two, get a room!" he called.

"Spoil sport!" called back Ty, wriggling to make sure Valentine couldn't see where Dill's hand was.

"They's always kissing," Hamish told him, rolling his eyes.

"Looks like they're doing more than just kissing," Valentine muttered under his breath. He shot a look at Bella, who grinned and shrugged, signing to him as Hamish watched her, fascinated.

"What's she saying?" he asked.

"She says let's the three of us go for a walk along the stream here, and see if we can see any of those octopuses!" Valentine told him, smiling as Bella took Hamish's hand and led him away. He looked over to Dill and Ty. "Okay, you guys. We'll give you a little privacy, but don't get too carried away. We won't be long!" He hurried off, chasing after Hamish and Bella.

"Thank God for that," Ty groaned. "I don't know how I managed to keep quiet with you doing that to me."

Easing her hand out of his shorts, Dill grinned. "Oh, give over. I've hardly touched you, yet!"

"No, Dill, no more. Not here," he told her.

"But they've gone off for a walk. Are you sure?" She kissed him gently, her tongue tracing his lips.

"I'm sure," he groaned.

"But you're a little excited there. Let me help you." Her hand wandered back to his shorts.

"No, Dill. I mean it, really." Ty grabbed her hand and drew it to his mouth, kissing her palm.

"But you were all ready to go for it at the farm, Ty, and here we are. No one around, just like you wanted," Dill told him.

"Well, I was wrong. It's too public. I don't like it." He paused, watching her face to see if she was angry with him.

"It's okay," she smiled. "After all, if you get me going now, you'll have to go the whole way. You know that. And I'd rather be able to get you totally naked and in our own bed."

"Of course you know we'll never be able to look Val and Bella in the eye again, don't you?" he grinned.

"Of course we will. For all they know, we were just kissing,"

"Which is why they went off and gave us some privacy," he chuckled, before sitting bolt upright knocking Dill off him. "They took Hamish!"

"Ty, it's alright. They'll be back, just you wait and see." Dill pulled him back down onto the blanket. "Let's just lie here and cuddle some more. I just don't seem able to get enough cuddles with you. Gotta store them up for when you leave next week."

"Don't remind me," he groaned. "Oh God, Dill, I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you and the children. I want to get up in the morning, sweep out the pig house, feed Gussie and Humphrey, and let Daddy out into her run." He chuckled. "You have to get her to pick a new name for that damn rabbit. For starters, it's a girl."

Dill lay there looking at him thoughtfully, a war raging inside her as she thought about what he'd said. Eventually she spoke. "You know you'd miss the war, Ty. If I thought you meant it, I'd tell you to resign. It's not like we need the money. My trust fund is mine in a month or so. But you need the corps, Ty. You know you do. You'd get bored as hell here with us every day, and you'd come to resent us. It would be the worst thing you could do."

He reached to stroke her face. "Even if I resigned now, I'd still be in for the duration. Duration and six, that's what it'd be. I would never resent you Dill."

"Yes, you would. If I pushed you to resign, you'd hate me for it. Maybe not straightaway, but it'd happen. Cleaning out the pig shed when you've fought your way to it through 3 feet or more of snow is going to be no small matter. Clearing the paddock so they can get out and exercise will be no easy job either. Nor will getting a tap installed down there, or electricity so I can see what I'm doing when it's still pitch dark at eight a.m. in the middle of winter. Believe you me, Tyrus McQueen, the novelty will soon wear off."

"I'm sorry, Dill," Ty said softly. "I didn't think of any of those things when I went ahead and bought them their pets. All I thought about was how happy they would be. I'm sorry."

"Why do you think I said no in the first place, Ty? You've never experienced winter here with us yet. Just wait till you do and you'll know why mother bought me that huge Range Rover, why we have a generator and an extra freezer in the utility shed, why we have that huge woodpile out the back, and why I have the oil fired Aga that you keep complaining makes the place too hot. You come home for Christmas, Ty, and you'll find out why."

"I'm sorry. I guess I never really thought about it before. You have a lot to cope with, and I just make it worse. I turn up on the doorstep and every routine you have gets thrown out the window. I let the kids in bed with us, I let them eat what they want, I buy them toys and presents and say yes when you've already said no." Ty wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. "And you never complain. This is the first time, over the animals. I'm sorry, Dill. You must hate me ruining everything."

"Don't you ever think that, Tyrus McQueen!" Dill told him crossly. "Yes, you come home and spoil them rotten, but that's fine. You get to see them what, twice a year if you're lucky? I think that entitles you to spoil them. It doesn't take us long to get back to our usual routine. Yes, I'm still cross about the animals, but it's done. There's no point crying about it now. I do wish that you'd asked before you bought them, but I understand why you did." She leant forward to kiss him. "I like that you spoil them, Ty. I'd much rather that than you be some aloof father who doesn't really know his children, or want to know them. You have no idea how much pleasure I get simply from watching you with them... watching you tickling Izzy, blowing raspberries on her belly, pretending you're inflating her through her belly button. You had Hamish going there for a while, you know." She laughed. "I love seeing you sit with Cameron on your lap while you read the paper to him, or watching you while you listen to him as he prattles away. Do you know how hard that is for me to do? He never gets the same level of attention from me. I always have Hamish or Izzy demanding something. But you - you listen to him. You actively listen, and you have no idea how much that means to him. Or to me. And then there's Hamish. He's so active, and yet I can barely cope with him. He has the equipment in the garden, and I take them swimming. We walk… but none of it, not one thing, compares to being asked by his daddy if he'd like to come along on his bike while you jog, or to you play fighting with him, wrestling him in the garden. All of those things, Ty, all of them, count for far more than you can possibly imagine. That day at the farm... they'll remember that for a long time. Days like today... like you trying to put up the pig house. They might seem like nothing to you, but to the children, to the boys, that's what they'll remember when you're not here. Those are precious memories for all of us. So don't you dare tell me that you're ruining anything. You're not. You're making your children fall in love with their daddy all over again." She lifted his head from her neck, seeing the unhappiness in his eyes. "Oh, Ty, how am I going to cope without you when you leave me this time?"

"How am I going to cope?" he asked in a small voice. "I got depressed last time. This time will be even worse."

"Oh, baby, I wish there was something I could do to help, but it's getting worse for me too." Dill kissed him, as a familiar voice spoke.

"Daddy, don't be sad." It was Cameron, awake now and sitting up, a forlorn expression on his face.

"I'm okay, little guy," Ty smiled. "Honest. Especially now you're awake and I can get a hug from you. Come here and give me a snug."

Dill smiled, watching as Cameron almost leapt at his daddy, wrapping his arms around his neck. She checked on the sleepily smiling Isobel, a familiar smell rising to her nostrils. "Oh, pooh!" she cried. "Izzy's spooged again."

Both Ty and Cameron laughed at the expression on her face. "What is it with your children, McQueen? Is it an invitro thing? They have to spooge every two hours or so, and hell, is it unpleasant!"

Ty grinned. "There are foods I don't eat, Dill. You know that. Why'd you think I won't eat cabbage? I like it, but it doesn't like me."

McQueen could hear crying. He looked up. Hamish was on his way back, blood running down his knee. "I falled over!" he wailed.

Valentine and Isabella were behind him. "He tripped on a rock and cut his knee. Even a cuddle from Bella didn't help," Valentine told them.

"Oh, my poor man!" Dill cried, holding her arms out for him.

Hamish hobbled into them. "I needs a plaster, mummy," he sobbed, fresh tears running down his already tear-stained face.

Ty rummaged in the backpack he'd packed for the children. "Here you go, little guy. Daddy's med kit. I know I've got plasters in here." He winked at the small boy. "In fact, I've got…," he reached into the kit and pulled out a box of children's plasters, "G.I. Joe plasters!"

Valentine laughed. "Are those marine issue now, then?"

"Of course!" McQueen chuckled. "I keep them especially for Hawkes."

"You don't?" Dill laughed.

"What do you think?" he grinned, offering them to Hamish to pick one. "I picked them up in a store in Inverness on impulse. But I'll keep them in my kit. You never know when I might need one."

McQueen wiped Hamish's knee and stuck on the plaster he'd chosen. "I think it'd be a good idea to head home now. We have one wounded hero, and a very smelly Izzy, who Dill had better change before I'm getting in the car with her!"

"I'm doing it," Dill chuckled. "Why don't you guys start walking back to the car, and we'll meet you there after I've done her bottom. You don't really want to watch, surely?"

"Hell no!" Ty smiled. "Come on then, folks. Let's get packed up here, and we can leave the spooge queen to get her clean diaper on."

Between them they tidied up. Packing away the picnic rugs and making sure they'd cleared up behind them, they headed back to the car. The two boys raced ahead of McQueen laughing, Hamish having forgotten about his knee already. Dill, carrying the now clean and fresh Izzy, hurried along behind them, smiling at the sight of Ty and the two boys racing each other.

However bad it would be for her when he left, she knew it'd be worse for him. At least she had the children. He had no one. Well, maybe Glen, but he wouldn't relax even with him the way he did at home. She sighed. There was nothing she could do except let him know how much she loved him.


	8. Chapter 8

McQueen sat in the transport, a small box clutched on his lap. Everything else he'd stowed in a storage locker, except for this. He'd found himself a dark corner to sit in, away from the rest of the 58th. They were busy regaling each other with tales of their leave, and he really didn't want to have to explain what he had in the box.

Ty sat back and put his feet up on the seat in front of him, his mind wandering back over his leave. It had been rather eventful, especially once Valentine had turned up. He sighed and settled himself more comfortably, being careful not to jostle the box. McQueen thought back over the row he'd had with Valentine... the horror of finding that not only did his friend work for Aerotech, but that he'd also been snooping around finding things out about McQueen. Of course Val'd also managed to calm a few of their fears, and answer the one question both he and Dill had long wondered about. He and Valentine had been sitting in the garden after lunch one day, watching the children playing happily.

"Val?"

"Yeah?" came a sleepy response. Valentine was stretched out in the hammock that they'd not long finished hanging between two Scots pines.

"You said I was supposed to be a breeder," Ty remarked tentatively. "What did they do to me?"

There was silence for so long he thought Valentine had gone to sleep. "You really want to know?"

"I was told I'd never father children naturally, Val. I have three. How?"

There was a snort from the hammock. "You want me to tell you about the birds and the bees?"

"You know what I mean!" McQueen chuckled. "I'm serious here, Val."

"You were one of a batch designed to breed psychic children. The gene was thought to be latent, showing itself only in your offspring. So they gave you certain 'attributes'."

"Attributes?"

"Do I really have to say this? Do I really have to tell you what they did? Don't you know by now?"

"Tell me. You embarrassed?"

"Yes, and you might be too," Valentine laughed. "Oh, alright. They enhanced your sexual performance. More stamina and higher sex drive. I believe you're also somewhat better equipped than the rest of us mere mortals. Anything sound familiar here?"

"Maybe," McQueen drawled casually.

"They also made sure you were attractive to the opposite sex. They wanted you to breed with natural born women, and most women will pick the blond haired, blue eyed guy, nine times out of ten." He lifted his head to stare at McQueen. "I bet you've had to beat them back with sticks!"

"Yeah, right. Especially when they discovered I'm a nipple neck!" McQueen snorted.

"Well, Dylan doesn't seem bothered about it. Was she ever?"

"No, she thought my navel was…," he hesitated, "sexy."

"That figures," Valentine laughed. "She can barely keep her hands off you."

"The kids, Val. How did we manage that?"

"They also gave you accelerated healing. You must have noticed that yourself. I mean, all invitros heal fast, but they designed you to heal even faster…." Valentine paused, looking for the right words. "Look, I guess they thought the women might be rough with you. They didn't really care, but they designed your wedding tackle to handle pretty much anything. After all, you were supposed to be servicing women all day, every day."

"So I guess my war wound healed," McQueen said softly.

"Hello? Have you been listening? See those three children in front of you? Those three, yes," Valentine pointed. "That big blond one, the tiny blond one and the one eating… oh, my God, she's eating a worm!"

McQueen was out of his seat in a flash. "Izzy! Spit it out right now!" He grabbed her and fished out the unfortunate worm, flinging it away. "Stop it, Izzy. You can't keep eating things. It's bad!" he told her, before putting her down and returning to his seat. He looked over at Valentine and quirked an eyebrow. "They didn't do anything to my taste buds, did they, that might account for the bug eater there?"

"Not that I know of. I dug as far as I could, but my security clearance isn't terribly high. I am, after all, a lowly lab tech," Valentine grinned wickedly. "I'll keep digging though, if you'd like me to. But those files are closed and rated very high in the security coding."

"So you're the geek in the lab coat with the eye dripper and the petri dish?"

"Excuse me!" Valentine feigned offence. "I'll have you know, it's a pipette!"

McQueen laughed so loudly all three children looked up at him.

McQueen chuckled to himself. At least now they knew why they had children. Dill hadn't been happy when he'd told her that from now on they were using protection, and had complained that she couldn't feel him the first time they had, but he'd been adamant and she'd not mentioned it again. He wasn't sure if he should be worried about that or not.

He hadn't managed to wheedle out of Valentine exactly who it was who was interested in the fact that he had kids. Valentine had declared he didn't want to wake up one morning and find a horses head in his bed. Ty'd had no idea what he was talking about until later that night. Dill had laughed, and explained about it being from an old movie, The Godfather. He decided to check it out and see for himself, at some point in the future, when he had a spare moment. McQueen sighed. There didn't seem to be too many spare moments on the Saratoga.

Ty sat and watched as the others joked and laughed, glad that they'd all obviously enjoyed their leave. He'd certainly enjoyed his, surprising himself with the enjoyment he'd got from the simplest things. After Valentine and Bella had left, they'd spent the last few days of his leave at home, doing what he considered 'domestic stuff', but things he'd not done before.

Dill had decided to redecorate Izzy's bedroom before they moved her cot back in. Ty'd never decorated in his life, and he suspected that Dill would ensure he never did again. He smiled now, remembering.

"Ty? How's that painting coming along?" Dill called from the kitchen. "Lunch is nearly ready."

He stood back and looked at his handiwork. W,hy he hadn't confessed that he'd never painted a room before he wasn't exactly sure. Stubborn pride, he suspected. After the fiasco with the paddock he was determined to prove he wasn't totally useless.

"Good grief!" Dill stood in the doorway. "The paint is supposed to go on the walls, Ty."

"It is on the walls," Ty grinned.

"It's also on the carpet, the windows, the furniture," she laughed, looking at him. "And all over you!"

"I know. I spilt a bit," he admitted.

"A bit! How do you think the 58th will feel about their C.O. returning to them with primrose yellow freckles? Oh my. It's all in your hair, too. I'm going to have to put you in the bath and scrub you up nice and clean," she chuckled, wrapping her arms around him and kissing the tip of his nose. "Mind you, my lover, what did actually reach the walls looks lovely. Well done."

"Well, I'm not used to these great things," Ty laughed, waving the roller brush under her nose. "My calligraphy brushes are a bit smaller."

"And to think Amy said you were useless around the house," Dill giggled. "Now then, my darling, how are your carpet cleaning skills?"

McQueen chuckled quietly to himself as he remembered Dill's face when she saw the state of the 'cleaned' carpet. She'd sent him off to buy a replacement without a second thought.

Shane Vansen sat and watched McQueen. She'd noticed the way he kept his box on his lap, not stowing it with the rest of his gear. She'd also noticed he had a large gift wrapped box with him too, but that had been stowed away. Whatever he had in that box was clearly something precious to him that he didn't want to get damaged.

"Hey, 'Phousse, what do you think he's got in that box?" she asked softly, not wanting him to hear her.

"I don't know, but it sure looks like he doesn't want to lose it." Shane's seatmate glanced at their boss. "Look, he's laughing to himself."

"Do you think he's finally lost it?" Vansen chuckled.

"It's probably something one of his kids made for him. He doesn't want it to get broken," Damphousse shrugged.

"Maybe it's a cake," Hawkes offered. "Think he'll offer us a bit?"

"Coop, we don't know what it is. Look at him - he sat himself away from the rest of us, and now he's smiling. Are we sure this is really McQueen?" West asked, grinning.

"I'm gonna go talk to him," Vansen nodded, as Damphousse quirked a delicate eyebrow.

Shane moved over to the seat opposite McQueen, or as opposite as she could get. He didn't move his feet. "Did you have a good leave, sir?" she asked.

McQueen looked at her, his eyes searching her face. He knew she was up to something. "Yes, thank you, Vansen. I had a very good leave."

"See much of your kids, sir?"

"Well, as I spent it at home with them, strangely enough, yes, I did," he replied dryly.

"Permission to ask a personal question, sir?"

"You can ask, but I might not answer," McQueen told her firmly.

"What do you do with your kids, sir? I mean, I can't see you actually…." Shane glanced up at his face, surprised at the way his eyes were twinkling with amusement, despite the stony face.

"What, Vansen? You can't see me what? Playing with my kids?" he asked.

"No, not that. I mean, we saw you with them last time they were on the 'Toga, sir. I meant…." She looked at him apologetically. "I don't know what I meant, sir. Sorry, sir."

"Yes, Vansen, I play with my kids. Is that what you want to hear, or do you need details?"

"Sorry, sir," Vansen mumbled.

"I have photographs if you want proof," McQueen snapped, annoyed

"No, sir. Sorry, sir," she said again, getting up and leaving him in peace.

McQueen frowned. He hadn't meant to snap, but he'd gotten irritated by the fact that everyone assumed he was a cold, heartless man with a heart of stone. He almost smiled at that. Heartless, but with a stone heart. If only they knew. Dill was right - he was two different people. His 'kids' here would hardly recognise him if they saw how he was at home, and his children would probably be terrified of him if they saw him here. Thinking that made him think of little Cameron 'feeling' him. He tried to send the little boy his love, hoping that Cameron would feel it and not be upset at the separation.

Damphousse grinned at Vansen. "Well, that put you in your place. Of course you could have been a little more tactful, Shane."

"You think? Next time you do it," Vansen grouched.

"It was your idea, girl!" Damphousse laughed. "But give him some time and I'll go say hi. See if I can do any better."

"We should have sent you, Hawkes," Vansen said. "He talks to you."

"That'd be even more obvious than us," Damphousse laughed again. "You really want to know what's in that box, don't you?"

"Who, me?" Vansen smirked.

"Yes, you!"

McQueen sat back in his seat, well aware that the 58th were talking about him, and determined that they wouldn't know what he had in his box. It was his, and it was private. It was something he'd argued with Dill about but, as she had pointed out, the children had been so excited giving it to him how could he not take it? Of course at that point he'd given in. Reluctantly he knew, but he couldn't bear to disappoint the children.

He thought again about those last few days at home. Dill had run him ragged. He'd mown the lawn, stacked wood, and been sent grocery shopping with and without the children. Suddenly they'd stopped having fun, and he'd tackled Dill about it as they got ready for bed the evening before he'd left.

"Dill?" he asked as he flung himself onto the bed, after finally clearing away the boys train track while she showered. It had taken him longer than he thought, and she was already in bed by the time he'd finished.

"Yes, my lover?" She looked up from the book she was reading.

"We haven't done anything fun this week. Why?"

"What do you mean we haven't done anything fun?" Dill closed her book and put it aside.

"Well, I mean we took the children to the farm, and when Val was here we took them out and about," Ty sighed, rolling over onto his stomach to look at her. "We did stuff. All we've done since they left is boring things. I mean, you made me paint Izzy's room…."

"No, you said that you could do it. I would have done it myself otherwise. Who do you think did the boys room? Or this room, for that matter?" Dill frowned at him.

"Well, mowing the grass then, and shopping. You know I hate shopping, but you made me go twice! And you made me stack all that wood and run that power cable down to the pig house."

"I didn't 'make' you do any of those things. I asked you, and you said yes. Go to sleep, Ty. I think you must be tired. You're whining like Hamish."

"I am not whining!" he cried, cringing as he heard himself say it. He certainly sounded like he was whining. "If I hadn't said yes then you would have done it all, and that's not fair."

"Who do you think does it when you're not here?" she asked quietly.

McQueen looked at her, realisation written large across his face. "You wanted me to see what it's like usually, when I'm not here."

"Bingo," Dill smiled. "You win and you can claim your prize."

"Why?" he asked puzzled. "Is this because you wanted me to see what it'd be like if I resigned and came home permanently?"

"Oh, you win the star prize." Dill grinned at the look on his face. "Yes, my love. When you're home we make a special effort. I want you to get the most out of the short time you get to spend with us. That's why we go out and about, take you to places you've not been. But we don't do that all of the time. Yes, we go to the farm a fair amount, but we also do the boring, mundane, everyday things too, and you don't get to see a lot of that. I thought you should, before you go and do anything rash." She frowned. "Before you do anything you might regret."

"Like resign from the corps?"

"Yes," she smiled, reaching to stroke his face. "I love you far too much to let you do anything so silly. You're a lifer, Ty. You know this, and so do I. Now shuffle up here and kiss me. You're off tomorrow and I think that tonight…," she blushed. "Well, tonight I have a surprise for you."

"Oh yeah?" Ty grinned, crawling up the bed to lie beside her and leaning forward to give her a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Call that a kiss?" she chuckled. "Blimey, if that's the best you can do I'll forget about the surprise."

He took her in his arms and kissed her again far more forcefully, grinning as he broke the kiss to come up for air. "Better?"

"Much," she gasped. "So come on, flyboy, get those boxers off and get into bed. Let me show you what I bought."

McQueen sat and smiled to himself, glad they had a way to go yet. The memory of he and Dill making love was far too fresh in his mind, and the delight of finding that she'd somehow got hold of a pot of the rub he'd enjoyed so much on their yacht trip, meant that if he had to stand up now it'd be difficult to hide what he'd been thinking about. He sighed, wriggling to try and ease his discomfort, wondering if it would be easier to visit the head and make himself more comfortable. The only thing that stopped him was the fact he'd have to take the box with him, which would arouse even more suspicion. He contented himself with trying to sleep instead, hoping to catch up on what he'd missed during the night.

He woke up as he felt movement close to him. McQueen sat up fast, startling the person who'd sat down. He turned and glared. It was Damphousse. "Something I can help you with, Captain?"

"No, sir. Sorry, sir," she said quickly. "You fell asleep, sir, and your box here was falling off your lap. I just grabbed it in time." She smiled at him. "I assume it's something precious to you, sir?"

McQueen frowned at her, taking the box from her hands. "You could say that, Captain." He emphasised her rank, making her aware that he wasn't going to tell her.

"Is it a present from your children?" she pushed gently. "Sir."

"Yes, it is," he said simply.

"How are they, sir? The boys, I mean, and Isobel too. Do you have any pictures? We've not seen them since last summer, and I'll bet they've grown so much." She smiled at him, knowing that he would be prepared at least to talk about the children.

"Yes, I have pictures," he told her. "They're in my bag. Front pocket. Be careful - there's other stuff in there too." McQueen sat and watched, trying not to smile as she realised he knew what she was up to. He wasn't going to ask her to hold the box while he got them. If she wanted to see the pictures, she'd have to get them herself.

Deciding to play him at his own game, Vanessa stood up. "Front pocket you said, sir?"

"Yes, and don't touch anything else," he told her.

McQueen watched as she found his bag and rummaged for the pictures. He frowned as he saw her smile and look up at him, blushing. What had she found, he wondered. He didn't think there was anything embarrassing in there. He'd packed it himself.

Damphousse came to sit next to him again, the pictures in her hand. "Are you sure this is okay, sir?" she asked.

He nodded. "Of course." McQueen paused for a second as she opened the packet. "What made you blush? There's nothing in there that should have that effect."

She looked up at him quickly, and then down again. "I think you need to look yourself, sir," she said quietly.

Dill, he thought. What the hell had she put in there? He hoped it wasn't really bad, but he wasn't going to get up and look now. It'd have to wait until he got to his quarters on the Saratoga. He looked at 'Phousse as she gave a little chuckle. "Can I show this to the others, sir?" she asked, smiling.

"What is it?" McQueen asked, groaning inwardly when she held the picture up and he saw himself standing in the middle of the goats, a look of panic on his face. "No" he told her.

"But, sir, that is so cute!" Vanessa grinned. "And look you can see the boys' faces watching you. They look worried for you. Sir," she added.

"They were," he admitted, a small smile escaping him at the memory.

Damphousse looked through the pictures. "You know, sir, this seems really odd. I mean I'm so used to seeing you like this, in your flight suit, that it seems strange seeing you in other clothes. Like it's not really you." She looked up at him. "I mean, sir, shorts?"

McQueen nodded. "Sandals too." He watched to see her reaction. To his surprise there was none.

"Oh, this one is just so sweet," Vanessa grinned. "Sir."

"Which one now?" he asked.

"The one with Isobel asleep on you." She showed him.

"Oh yeah. The little guys fell asleep in the sand box," he told her.

Damphousse looked at him, a smile on her face. "It looks like you had a really good time, sir." She flipped through the pictures again, a small gasp escaping as she stopped at one. "A very good time, sir. Have you seen these yet yourself?"

"No," McQueen said. "Dill only got them back last night. Two sets, one each. I packed them to look at later. I've a book to put them in."

"I take it Dylan didn't look at them straightaway either?" Damphousse asked.

"No, why?" he asked, confused now.

"Well, I think you won't want everyone to see this picture, sir." She handed him a picture.

Taking it from her, he glanced at it and flushed red to the roots of his hair. One of the boys must have taken it, from the bedroom doorway, it looked like. Dill's head was buried between his thighs. "Shit," he whispered.

"It doesn't leave much to the imagination, does it, sir?" Damphousse grinned.

McQueen turned to her. "Two people know about this picture - you and I. If I hear a single breath about this anywhere - and I mean anywhere, Captain - I will know exactly where it came from. Do I make myself clear?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" she snapped smartly. "This information is to be considered compartmentalised. I understand, sir."

"Thank you, Vanessa," McQueen said softly, putting the picture into a pocket of his flight suit.

"You're welcome, sir," she smiled. "I think perhaps I'll leave you to look through the rest of these pictures by yourself. Sir." She got up and headed back to the others.

McQueen sat and flipped through them. Obviously it had been Hamish with the camera. There were a few pictures of Izzy, and Cameron too. He smiled. Considering the child was only three, he had a damn good eye for a picture.

The pilot's voice came over the intercom, telling them that they would be arriving at the Saratoga in approximately fifteen mikes.

McQueen sat up and surreptitiously checked the contents of his box to make sure it was undamaged. Looking around, he almost laughed as he saw four heads turn swiftly away, trying to make it look as if they hadn't been watching him. By the time they'd landed and disembarked, he was fighting not to laugh out loud. They'd watched him struggling with his sea bag, his large gift wrapped box, and his small box, and not one of them had offered to help him as they normally would. Afraid he'd yell at them, no doubt. He marched off to his quarters his little box perched precariously in his arms.

Once in his quarters McQueen carefully placed the box on one desk and flung his sea bag onto his bed. The gift wrapped box he opened, tearing the paper hurriedly, doing as Dill had told him and making it his first priority. Shaking his head at the things he did for his children, he carefully assembled the contents of the box, making sure that everything fit together snugly. He then rummaged in his sea bag for the few extras Dill had given him for it. adding the final few touches. He stood back and admired his handiwork, then looked around for somewhere to put it. Somewhere out of sight of the door, where no one standing outside would see it. He'd do anything for his children, but he didn't need to advertise that fact. He finally settled for on the floor, under the desk closest to his bed. It was dark under there, admittedly, but at least no one would be able to see it. Turning to the smaller box, he opened it and peered inside, smiling at the bright eyes peering back at him.

"Hey, Stirrup," he whispered. "Welcome to your new home. Sorry about the journey. I've got you a nice new house to live in. There's food and water. I'm sure you need both, and there's even a funny little boot thing for you to sleep in. Izzy picked that for you."

Carefully picking him up, McQueen placed the small golden hamster into its new home, and watched as it scurried around investigating. The boys had chosen him a hamster enclosure that allowed for extra tubes and tunnels to be attached, allowing the hamster to climb and crawl as it would naturally. And if he was totally honest with himself, he was fascinated watching Stirrup as he ran straight to the water bottle and drank before hunting out the bowl of food that McQueen had carefully placed in a corner. As he sat on the bed watching the hamster, he remembered how he'd tried to get out of bringing it back with him.

"Ty?" Dill called from the back door. "Come here a minute, will you? The children have a surprise for you."

He turned with the lawnmower and headed back towards the house. Leaving the mower by the back door, Ty peeled off his shirt and used it to wipe his face. He'd been lucky with the weather this past couple of weeks, he thought. Just the odd day of rain, and it was incredibly hot today. As he came through the door, he saw all three children watching him, excited smiles on their faces.

"Hello, my lovelies," he grinned. "You've got me a surprise?"

"So you won' be lonely," Hamish told him seriously. "We got mummy and Humfrey and Gussie, and Izzy's got Daddy, but you ain't got no one."

"Haven't got, my lover," Dill corrected him.

Hamish glared at her. "You haven't got no one."

"We got you something to keep you company," Cameron told him, almost jumping up and down with excitement. "Gamma took us out shopping to buy it specially."

Ty looked at Dill, his eyes questioning. He didn't like the way she avoided looking at him.

"So what did you guys get me?" he asked cautiously. If Dill didn't want to look at him, that meant he wouldn't like it.

Dill carefully placed a small box on the table in front of him. "Mind how you open it," she told him.

He looked at the three small faces all glowing with excitement and delight as he slowly opened the box and peered inside. Ty looked up at Dill, and then at the children. "What is it?" he asked.

"Daddy!" Cameron cried.

"Issa hamster!" Hamish told him.

"A hamster? What do I do with it?" He sat down at the table and took it out of the box, holding it in his hands.

"Careful," Dill said. "They're nimble little beggars! You don't want him to escape already."

"We got it a house to live in, too," Hamish declared proudly. "Izzy choosed it. Tell 'im, Izzy," he nudged the toddler.

"Boot!" she crowed. "Boot, daddy!" She ran over to McQueen and tried to climb onto his lap. "Boot, daddy!" she repeated.

Hoisting her up one handedly, Ty looked at Dill. "So you get yet another nanimal to look after."

"Oh no, daddy!" Cameron cried. "It's for you to take with you, and keep in your bedroom on the 'Toga. Then you'll have someone keeping you company and won't be lonely!"

"We buyed a house an' everyfin!" Hamish told him.

Ty looked at Dill and then at the children. "Guys, I can't. I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed pets on the 'Toga. It's against regs."

The boys' faces fell.

"But why, daddy?" Hamish asked, his lip trembling as he spoke. "Don't you like him? It's a pwesent."

Cameron just burst into tears and ran from the room.

Dill shook her head. "Break it to them gently, why don't you?" she said, before heading after Cameron.

Ty deposited Izzy on the floor and put the hamster back in the box, closing it carefully.

"Hamish, I'm sorry. It's not allowed. If it was, you know I'd take it with me. I'm sorry, little guy, but you can look after it for me, can't you? Let me know how it's getting on? Send me pictures of it."

Hamish glared at him. "No, daddy! You have to take it! We buyed it for you! We buyed it 'cos we loves you! So's you won' be lonely!"

"Hamish, I can't. I'd get into all sorts of trouble if I did. Do you want daddy to get put up on charges? Do you want him to get told off?"

Dill came back into the kitchen with Cameron in her arms. The little boy's eyes were red from crying. "Hamish, Izzy, come in the living room. I've put a video on for you," she told the two children, "and you," she looked at McQueen, "in the bedroom. Now!"

She took the children with her and settled them in front of the screen to watch a film, then went into the bedroom to speak to McQueen. Closing the door behind her, she turned to him. "Don't get your hopes up, flyboy. I didn't bring you in here for fun and games. You lied to them, Ty. Cameron knows full well that you lied to them. That's why he's so upset."

"A white lie, Dill, that's all. Hell, I'm sure it doesn't specifically say I can't keep a hamster, but how can I take it? It's a hamster, Dill. I mean, come on!"

"Did you see their faces? Did you see how excited they were? You spoiled it. You bloody swine. You spoiled their surprise," she yelled at him.

"Be reasonable, Dill," he cried, sitting on the bed. "You know what my quarters are like. How can I keep a hamster? What if we get into a battle? Or I go on a mission?"

"I'm not asking you to carry it around, Ty. It's not like when you had Cashus. It'll be no trouble, no trouble at all. And it's such a tiny little thing," Dill said, pleadingly, sitting herself on his lap and wrapping her arms about his neck. "I'm sure Glen would feed it for you if you're not about. I'll send you hamster food every month. Why would anyone else need to know you have it?" Her fingers gently stroked his neck, running over his navel. "Do it for the children, Ty. Do it for me" she whispered.

McQueen sat on the bed smiling, knowing that not long after he'd been ready to agree to anything, and had found himself over dinner telling the children that yes, he'd take it with him. Yes, he'd send them pictures and let them know how it was getting on. And now here he was stuck with a hamster he didn't want, and with orders to take it out and stroke it everyday and to talk to it to stop it getting lonely. He shook his head, chuckling. He was a grown man, taking orders from two three-year-old boys.

As he began to unpack his bag, he looked in the front pocket and saw straightaway what had made Damphousse blush. There, right on top where she must have put it at the last minute, were two pairs of black silk boxers embroidered with his initials, and a white cotton t-shirt. McQueen lifted the t-shirt and shook it out, grinning as he saw it had a picture on the front. Not just any picture, but Dill, dressed in black underwear, stockings and a wicked grin. Under the picture were the words 'Sweet Dreams'.

He finished his unpacking, realising that he'd not worn most of what he taken with him - only a pair of jeans, underwear and the odd shirt. But mainly he'd worn the clothes Dill had bought for him - the shorts, shirts and sweatpants hanging in his wardrobe at home. McQueen smiled. Dill knew him far better than he realised. There'd not been one item of clothing he'd not liked. Except the sandals. But he had to admit, they were damned comfortable. He sighed. After six years she ought to know him. He just wished he saw her more often. He liked who he was when he was at home, and he was always so uptight and stressed on the Saratoga.

Finished with his unpacking, McQueen considered going to the Tun for a beer, but somehow he found he didn't really want to have to talk to people. He took out the t-shirt with the picture of Dill. Now why hadn't she actually worn that get up for him, he wondered. Ty glanced at his watch. He could go and see Glen, find out if there was any news on the peace talks, listen while he played Rosalyn, relax a little. He sighed. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he was too relaxed when he was home, and it didn't do him any good when he came back to the 'Toga. With aother huge sigh, McQueen undid his boots, and kicking them off, flung himself onto the bed, the t-shirt still clutched in his hands. Five minutes later he was sound asleep, the t-shirt on the pillow under his head.

He woke suddenly, aware of a strange noise. Lifting his head, he looked around. It appeared to be coming from under his desk. Peering into the dark, Ty turned on a lamp and almost laughed as he saw Stirrup racing wildly round and around in the little wheel attached to the side of his main living area. He lay and watched him for a moment or two, before getting up and stripping out of his flight suit. After a quick shower, he pulled on Dill's t-shirt and some fresh boxers, telling himself he'd save the silk ones for when he felt homesick. He looked around. Since his promotion he'd been assigned bigger quarters with his own bathroom. But with two desks squeezed in, he still didn't seem to have much more room, but he did have somewhere he could make himself coffee. And that's what he did, sitting on the bed cross legged to drink it as he watched his hamster going about its nocturnal business. As he watched, he was surprised to see that Stirrup had obviously decided that one particular area was his own personal head. With a smile, Ty realised that it would make keeping him clean a helluva lot easier. He noticed that the water was almost gone, and got up to replace it, telling himself that he must check it twice a day. It wouldn't be fair to the little animal if he didn't take care of it properly. And, of course, Dill'd kill him if he let it die. Stirrup, he thought. Damned silly name. But he had to admit it, in some weird way it suited the little fur ball.

"Ty?" Dill asked, as he sat at the table helping Izzy with her dinner, making sure that she actually ate some real food for a change, to break up her diet of creepy crawlies.

"Yeah?" he asked, trying to get Izzy to eat some vegetables as the boys laughed at her screwed up face.

"The hamster, Ty. Where is it?"

"What d'you mean, where is it? I put it back in its box and left it on the side," he told her.

"The box is here, but the hamster's gone," she glared at him. "It would appear that it's escaped."

"I swear I closed the lid," he said. "I know what you're thinking. Do you really think I'd be that underhanded?" At her silence, he turned and looked at her. "Well, do you?"

"No, of course I don't. Maybe you didn't close the box properly," she said quietly.

"I closed the box properly, Dill," Ty said firmly. He looked at the boys. "Did one of you guys touch the box, the hamster box, while me and mommy were in our bedroom?"

"No," Hamish whispered, pushing the food around his plate, his small face flushing red.

McQueen looked at him. "Hamish, I don't need Cameron to tell me that you're telling me a lie. Did you open the box?" he asked sternly.

Hamish nodded, his lip trembling and tears falling down his face. "I opened it, daddy. I din' mean to. I just did."

Ty looked at Dill, who nodded to him to carry on.

"Hamish, if you opened it, you must have meant to," he told the small boy. "Tell me what happened."

"It jumped out!" Hamish wailed. "I tried to catch it, but it was too fast. I couldn' get it!"

"Where did it go?"

"I dunno, daddy," he cried. "I tried an I tried, but it wouldn' come back."

"Why didn't you come and get me or mommy?"

"Cos the door was shut and Cam'ron said mummy was makin' you happy," he wept.

McQueen got up and knelt beside the small boy. "Hamish, it's okay," he told him, hugging him close. "I'm cross that you didn't tell us straightaway, but I understand why. Now, eat your dinner up, and once we're all finished, we'll look for it, okay?"

"You gonna smack me?" Hamish asked, his eyes still full of tears.

"No, I'm not going to smack you. Have I ever smacked you?" McQueen asked him.

Hamish shook his head.

"So why would I smack you now?"

"I dunno," Hamish whispered, looking him straight in the eye he burst into fresh tears. "Please don't smack me, daddy!"

Ty looked at Dill, puzzled. "I swear I've never laid a finger on any of them, Dill."

"I know, sweetheart. Don't take it personally," she told him, kissing the top of his head. "He saw one of his friends getting a smack yesterday. It's obviously stuck in his mind."

"And I threatened him with a smack the day Val and Bella arrived," he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hamish. Daddy would never smack you. I love you too much."

"I loves you too, daddy," the little boy sobbed.

"I know you do, little guy. Come on now - finish your dinner and we'll find him together, while mommy makes you guys a bath, okay?" Ty kissed the little boy's head and returned to his seat next to Izzy. "Mommy has a treat for you for pudding, if you eat all your dinner." He winked at both boys.

"Something yummy?" Cameron asked.

"Oh yes, definitely yummy. I had to hide it from daddy to stop him eating it all," Dill laughed.

"Is it ice cream?" Cameron asked, wide eyed. "Daddy likes ice cream."

"No, I'm afraid not," Dill told him.

"Is it grandpa's pie? Cos daddy likes that, too," Hamish asked, wiping his tears.

Ty nodded. "Uh huh. I bought some pie when I went to the store this morning. I know you guys love grandpa's pie, so I bought some maple stirrup, too." He looked at Dill, a lecherous grin on his face. "I know mommy loves maple stirrup."

"Mummy puts it on her pancakes," Hamish told him, shovelling his food into his mouth.

"And somewhere else," Dill muttered from across the room, grinning back at Ty.

"I'm finished!" Cameron yelled, pushing his plate away from him. "Can I have pie now, please, mummy?"

"Yes, you can, my lover. Do you want to get the stirrup from the cupboard for me while daddy gets Izzy to finish her dinner."

"Me's finished too!" Hamish said quietly, looking warily at McQueen. "Does I get pie? Or does I get nuffin for telling you lies?"

Ty looked at Dill. "I think that's for mommy to say."

Dill glared at him. "Well," she said, smiling at Hamish, "because you did tell daddy the truth afterwards, I think today you can have pie. But next time, no pudding for you."

"Fank you, mummy," Hamish smiled.

"That's okay, my lover. After all, it's daddy's last night home. We can't have everyone unhappy, can we?"

"Daddy!" squealed Cameron. "Quick, daddy!"

McQueen jumped up, his first thought that the boy had somehow hurt himself. "What?" he almost yelled.

"Look, daddy. It's the hamster. It's eating the stirrup!" Cameron giggled.

Both McQueen and Dill went to look. There in the cupboard, busily licking at the syrup encrusted around the top of an old bottle, was the hamster. Reaching in, McQueen grabbed it. "Hello, little fur ball," he smiled. "So you like stirrup too, do you?"

"Stirrup," Hamish giggled. "Call him stirrup, daddy."

Dill smiled. "It's as good a name as any, and he is that sort of colour too."

"Stirrup" Cameron chuckled. "You need to give him some to eat, daddy."

"So, little fur ball, shall we call you Stirrup?" Ty asked, it holding it up to look in its eyes. The hamster twitched its nose.

"Oh daddy, it said yes!" Cameron cried.

"Stirrup it is, then," he grinned.

McQueen finished his coffee, and with one last look at the scurrying hamster, he settled back into bed, telling himself that he'd feel better in the morning. That once he got back into his usual routine, he wouldn't miss them so much. Yeah, he thought, try and fool yourself as much as you like McQueen. You're gonna miss those little faces smiling up at you over the breakfast table. Hamish waiting to meet you as you get back from your run in the mornings. Cameron creeping into bed for a cuddle, and Izzy eating anything that moves.

He rolled onto his side facing the wall. And Dill. Oh God, how he missed her so much already. Taking several deep breaths, Ty closed his eyes, telling himself that he was Colonel T.C. McQueen, C.O. of the 58th Squadron. The Wildcards. The man who took out Chiggy Von Richthofen. He was a goddamned war hero!

So why was it that all he wanted to be was daddy to three small children, and husband to an elf? His hand wandered to his t-shirt, absently stroking the picture of Dill while he fought his feelings, conscious that Cameron might be able to feel how miserable he was.

And so he slept, one hand clutching his t-shirt, the other hugging a pillow to him. Colonel T.C. McQueen, married to the corps, and desperately trying not to admit that he wanted a divorce.

Fin.


End file.
